Annual Mileage

I spent the holiest day of the year contemplating my life while driving to the dealership to get my 5,000 mile tune-up. It had been 316 days since I "moved" to L.A. In quotes because I've been in the Jet Blue NeverNeverLand of bicoastal limbo for most of those moons.

All the milestones of Los Angeles - getting a car, an apartment, a writing gig - didn't wed me to this place like I thought they would. Then I thought "Once my girlfriend and cat join me out West, THEN I'll really be here." But packing up my NYC apartment to sublet two weeks ago was a terribly final act. Now each trip East will be a visit, not to "Home." The day we left with packed bags felt like the true Yom Kippur. I surveyed the eerily empty space and thought of the loved ones lost, the loved ones ill, the loved ones far away and the amends I need to make. During the High Holy Days I write up a list, New Year's resolutions of sorts. This year I scribbled mine, behind schedule, while sitting in Toyota of Orange's service waiting room.

I began 5768 with family and the big move, only to fall down en route to an important meeting and be whisked away in an ambulance. I'm not a fan of hospitals, but at least nothing was broken and I got a nifty pair of crutches that my sweetie insisted I actually use.

Immobile on the couch, I got a chance to catch up on Tivo and contemplate being inscribed in the Book of Life for the coming year. Mostly, I just prayed that my ailing friends and family recover and return to life in all senses. And that no more of my beloved pets would perish in the near future. It's been a bumpy 5,000+ miles.

You know what was at the end of this stormy Yom Kippur? A freakin' rainbow over the 101. Now THAT'S the way to start off the year right.

Silver Lining

Sitting in the ER in the middle of the night, staring up at the fluorescent lighting of the exam room at this:

Not the storm clouds it felt like at first; they turned into the silver lining of the ordeal.

Hospitals, both animal and human, are not where I want to spend any time with loved ones. I have a complicated and unhappy association with them. I'm usually there for painful reasons. TV commercials would have you believe that everyone walks out of their institution with a new lease on life. Sometimes people do. I've been that lucky person before, but it's not the norm in my experience. Some things about hospitals and their environs seem universal, though:
- They all smell of antiseptic and illness.
- Not known for beauty lighting.
- Magnets for the best and worse human impulses.

I've had the misfortune of being around them a lot lately - for my back, for my cat, and for my sweetie. Some other universalities struck me in this setting:
- The power of touch to comfort.
- The habit of hiding pain from our loved ones.
- The terrifying vulnerability of bodies and emotions.

And lessons that keep on getting learned:
- Kindness is a necessity.
- The "right thing to do" is never so apparent as such.
- Err on the side of Love.

Silver linings aren't cheap or easy by any measure, but they're there...