sleep runs away

like a nymph in the reeds

elusive and teasing

out of sight

laughing at the water’s edge

with only the bare promise

of a dark, hypnotic embrace

just out of reach

there isn’t a smile wide enough
to remove sadness from the eyes
to hide that inner-life
or a laugh loud enough
to mask the endless, endless cries
that echo within the chest

you are seen, weighed and measured…
some just ignore what they see
and cloak you in dreams

Not only do we want most in life to be known, as Aristotle stated 2,400 years ago but to be known authentically, as we are.

This basic human need is why so many religions often spin their message around the idea of being known etc.

What does it mean to be authentically yourself, let alone, known authentically? I do not know who I am really and so I would be a great disappointment to Shakespeare’s Polonius.

I know a few things about myself. I know that I believe I am most authentically me within my inner life – that is my thought life, my secret life. Who I am in the place no one else can know, not because I try to keep people out but because they cannot access this space.

Who I am in the “real world” is a shadow of myself cast upon the wall of the great cave we all live in, to use Plato’s analogy. People know me based on the shadow they see.

Now aside from an accumulation of experience and knowledge, who I am has not changed an iota from who I was at 12, 20, 30, etc. When I look in the mirror who I see is not who I am. I see the vehicle that transports my self.

I have railed against tendencies and axioms to “act your age” etc. because, frankly, this is bullshit. I act who I am. I regret the accumulation of certain sadnesses and traumas but this may be chalked up to the human experience in the Buddhist sense and so I do not lose sleep over it.

With all this in mind I think the older I have gotten the more I have desired to be known authentically. Ironically, despite the fact it may be our greatest desire, we struggle to know people authentically and to be known authentically. We put up walls. I think this is rooted in the great fear that if people truly knew us for who we really are they would run in horror.

And so we create great charades and facades to project an ideal version of ourselves based on what we believe the ideal to be. This ideal is based on advertising, marketing, society, mum and dad etc. We can so buy into it that we can even deceive ourselves into thinking we are what we are not. It is an endless vicious cycle.

I desire to be known, authentically. I desire to know, authentically.

untethered and drifting
in the drying of the sea-salt sun,
turning brown and going
who knows where
or maybe standing still.
for the wind has run away;
have i moved a meter or a mile
my swollen tongue cannot say
but fear and fearlessness take turns
playing hide-and-seek in my brain
and i am a passenger deep within
as reality falls away
like an un-keeled boat

if i were to lay down in the sea
the ever-present, infinite sea
would i one day cease to be
all that i am and have ever called –

me?

this may be the case for all of us
that we would vanish, deemed superfluous
gone without a word, without a fuss
no shadow, no print, no future, just absence –

harmonious.

I am thankful for many things in life. I try not to dwell on the negative. I try not to carry the burden of my mistakes (which are many) along the road with me.

This is not the same as forgetting. I do not want to forget the weight of things, merely set them down along the way like unnecessary heavy burdens and continue on with the memory of what they were and the hope that I might carry things differently moving forward.

My wife makes me happy. My children make me happy. These are good things in the grand scheme of things.

Generally, I am a simple person in a sea of complexity. I don’t need a lot relationally. This can become a tendency of not giving a lot relationally if I am not careful and attentive.

I have always known I can be content simply knowing a person I love or care for exists in the world in a state of general contentment. In the past this has caused me to make assumptions about others. I assume if I am content in the knowledge that my friend or relative is simply existing that they too feel the same way about me. I don’t need to reach out and they don’t need to reach out and everyone is happy.

In this sense I am a distant person relationally and can appear cold. I internalize my relationships. I consume them and take them inside sheltered from the wind and rain of the real world. Safe.

This is not really how things are supposed to work with relationships. It is how I work. It is important to understand these things and note the distinction.

Regardless of how you feel, in relationships, there are others. They feel and emote and exist in ways different from ourselves. Knowing this, we are asked to extend ourselves outside of our safe comfort zones that we might reach out to others (or pull back as the case may be) so that we can acknowledge and value how others seek to relate to us.

We must speak to those who need speaking to and hug those who need to be hugged – even when these are not our ways. This is not to suggest you abandon who you are and become the same as others. This is not healthy and also leads to relational breakdown. The point is for both people in a relationship to find that middle place between you and occupy it from time to time.

Sometimes, given enough effort, you may learn to like the stretched place and even come to overlap. This is a wonderful thing in a relationship.

One of the things I value most in my marriage is that we have, through time and effort, found places we overlap. Over the years one of those areas is walking together. We walk together nearly every single day. This may seem simple but it can be remarkably hard to defend a relational habit like this with the ever present tyranny of the urgent constantly seeking to press in on that which we can take for granted – like simple relational presence.

This is the beautiful thing about our walks together. There is no agenda. We talk, sometimes. We are silent, sometimes. We hold hands, sometimes. You get the idea. Taking a walk together expresses a simple desire to be near to one-another. There is opportunity to vent and discuss. There is opportunity to simply be in each other’s space. I have come to value our walks as an expression of mutual love.

A habit of intentionally seeking the other is important. When we reach out we actively acknowledge and communicate that the person in the relationship is valuable to us. In fact the act itself is part of the engine of relationship – it keeps it going.

The consequence of having too much time on your hands is finding yourself reminiscing and digging through old stuff. I am a fan of personal history (packrat) and so I have a box of things from the past. As I was digging through the box I found hand-written letters from my mum sent to me while I was in university.

Here they are:

Letter 1, (found in my trunk while unpacking having arrived in Ottawa at Carleton University in September 1987):

Just a few reminders.

Peter, when you wash your clothes don’t put your good sweaters in the wash, wash by hand, or dry-clean them. I guess you’d have to hang them in your room or lay them on a towel to dry.

Don’t wash the dark and light colours together, read all the tags, just put a cup of soap in the washer.

Try to save change for laundry and quarters to phone long distance, you can phone once a week collect, we won’t be able to talk long but at least I’ll know how you’re doing. Phone on Sunday, after 1 will be best.

Peter please try to stay away from booze. There’ll be a lot of partying there, try to have fun by being yourself, you don’t have to follow the crowd. I know you’ll probably like it there, just remember why you’re there. I’m very proud of you for going as far as you have with everything you’ve done and I know you’ll do good. This is a chance to make your life better for yourself, don’t let the parties ruin it for you.

If you feel like talking, phone, even if its not Sunday. Phone person-to-person for me and if I’m not home it won’t cost anything.

Now I know you have said you’re used to keeping your problems to yourself and not asking for help or advice but everyone is human Peter, even if you’re 95 years old you still need to talk to someone about a problem sometimes. So remember there are older guys there that are supposed to help if you need them.

Also, if you can’t keep up with everything at once, like the Militia and school, remember your school is important to you. Don’t try to do everything at the same time.

I guess it will be kind of hard to get home a lot, since it costs so much and takes so long. Maybe someone from there will come from here and might have a car that would drop you off and take you back some weekends.

Well take care of yourself and let me know how you’re doing.

You have to try to understand that its hard for a mother to let go, but I know every mother has to do it. Remember we all love you very much and remember St. Jude.

Love Mom.

P.S. and remember, this is still your home.

Letter 2, September 17, 1987

Dear Peter,

I hope you are being patient waiting for your cheque. I phoned on Tuesday night. The girl checked and said they’re waiting for all the cheques to come in which won’t be for at least a week.

They didn’t know if yours is there or not but she said you’d probably get one. It will be sent here, so when it is I’ll mail it to you.

I hope everything is going ok for you. Did they give you a part-time job on campus yet? You should write a letter to Nancy and Doug and thank them for helping you. Also write Brian and thank him. You could send it in care of Gramma, 2 Quebec Street, Apt. 1212.

Susan went to Air Cadets the first night it started. She hasn’t made up her mind as of yet. She’s having her sleepover tonight which put me out about $25 otherwise I would have sent you money. I will send you that $30 from your typewriter as soon as my cheque comes.

How are your studies coming?

Angel started taking her driving lessons last week. She had to pay $41 for a book for biology. Well when I get a newspaper I will send them to you. By for now. Love Mom.

P.S. I’m waiting til Saturday to mail this. Mom gave this $20 money order to cash at a post office.

Letter 3, October 10, 1987

Hi Peter,

How are you doing these days? I’m glad you like it there. I hope you and your roommate get along ok, and that you are making friends. Please don’t get upset when I mention not to party and drink and all that too much, I just worry about you. I worry about the other kids too.

Just read Doug’s letter. If things start bothering you.

Anyway it will be nice for you to be doing some film work. I’ll pick up your plaque from cable T.V. for you.

Susan is doing good in Air Cadets so far. She’s supposed to get a job at Zeller’s for Christmas so she’d like that. April is in Guides – so far so good.

Let me know when exactly you can get home before Christmas.

Anyhow I’ll let you go for now. Tamara has a job at a Hairdressers on Willow Rd. in the A&P plaza so that’s nice. Here’s a picture of the girls.

Lots of love, Mom.

Letter 4, Feb. 28, 1990

Dear Peter,

I thought I’d write a few lines and let you know everything here is good.

We are still going to A.A.

Susan goes to a group called Pals, they meet at a church every week and she’s doing good in school. She’s taking advanced French and doing pretty good.

We’ve gotten memberships to the YMCA. It will be good for Susan & April, and Ron and I have cards too. We all went bowling last week for 2 and a half hours. I thought it would be a change. It was fun.

April didn’t want to at first because she thought she’d be laughed at but we got her going and she did really good and I think she liked it. Susan did good and her friend from school came with us and had fun. Ron and I did pretty well – about 100 and something each, not great but good since we haven’t bowled in years. Ron was a little stiff the next day. I guess he thinks he’s old, he’ll be 49 on March 4th.

Your birthday’s coming up soon too. It’s so hard to believe you will be 22 soon. The years have gone so fast when I think back to when you were small and you’re doing so good. I’m really proud of you Peter (and Angel). The saying goes “you only reap what you sow”.

The more you go after what you want in life, you know you’ll get it.

April might start riding school this spring, for handicapped kids, if I ever get all the papers filled out that they gave me. It should work out ok for her, she’s growing so fast, gets a little mouthy sometimes but maybe she’ll grow out of it. She does very well in school but still has a few problems having friends. I guess her kind of problem is something the rest of us don’t really know about — everyone has some kind of handicap. I’ve told her that her’s is just one that is seen – I think she’ll be ok though.

Angel is doing pretty good in her bank job, a few mistakes but she’s overcoming them. It’s too bad that she has two part-time jobs because neither one hires full-time so I guess it’s a little tiring for her.

Her and Keith and April and Susan were there for the weekend and they had a good time. I wish you weren’t so far from Barrie you guys could see each other more often.

Well I hope you enjoyed your trip. It’s nice to remember times like that.

The dog’s great – house-trained, which is nice except he wants out every 10 minutes so he’s got us well-trained.

Well that’s about all for now. I’ll send your other T4 slip separately if you go to Bentax or one of those places you’ll get your money in a few days. Also tell them your rent amount from August 1 to end of December. Take rent receipts or cheques with you because they’ll ask for them.

Here’s a few bucks to buy something – it’s between you and I.

Lots of love.

Mom.

Of course there were lots of other letters but these are the ones that survived.

The phrase “never meet your heroes” has an indistinct origin. There is no certainty in where it came from but, as with most statements that bear some timeless truth, it has likely been said one way or another since people first began idolizing other people.

I believe in the truth in this statement but it is important to note that its truth hinges on both the subject and the predicate – that is to say the hero and the act of meeting said hero. When we meet another we bring ourselves into this meeting, we bring our biases, preconceptions, filters etc. A hero is only a hero because of the one(s) who worships them and the expectations and beliefs they endow them with.

Today I read an article in the New Yorker about Flannery O’Connor entitled How Racist was Flannery O’Connor and it seems the answer to that question is – pretty racist.

Apologist have sprung up like weeds to point our various and obvious things like “she lived in a different time” blah, blah, blah. To which myself and others would point out that so did so many others who were not racist.

I bring to this conversation an admiration of Flannery O’Connor’s work. At least I did. Now what I bring is an appreciation of the work and a newfound struggle to enjoy it. At what point do you say that we should not hold the past accountable to today’s morality?

I do not know the answer to that question. Everything is subject to who we are. I can appreciate Shakespeare and The Merchant of Venice but I cannot enjoy it. The caricature of the greedy, merciless, literally blood thirty Jew has done so much harm throughout history that one cannot condone or enjoy the portrayal just as one cannot enjoy the passion plays that continue even to this day in Europe and elsewhere as they present an image of Jews as murderers of the Christian god.

I don’t care when these things occurred I cannot enjoy them.

In the same way I cannot enjoy the music of Wagner though I am forced to admit its quality. Wagner wrote too much about the need for Jews, Jewishness and Judaism to “go away” and of its “negative” influence on German culture and music to be ignored regardless of his motives.

In the same way, while I can intellectually comprehend the use of the swastika as a religious symbol for thousands of years, I cannot endorse or understand its use today because of its co-opting by the Nazis. The symbol is not too loaded with ideologies of racism, intolerance, and death to be worthy of resuce.

Now with all of this being said I do not advocate for the destruction of Wagner’s, O’Connor’s, or Shakespeare’s work – but rather that it be taught and understood within the framework of the artist’s beliefs and ideologies. The works themselves can no longer stand on their own for we know too much. Any such effort would be an exercise in willful ignorance – the opposite of what education is supposed to be about.

And so I am saddened as another star in my sky’s small pantheon has grown dim as a result of having come to “meet my hero” but not so sad as to agree with the statement “never meet your heroes” or else we doom ourselves to live in that ignorance we just railed against.

We find ourselves increasingly in agreement with the author of Ecclesiastes 1:18 when they said “For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.”