Scribbler's Cafe

Sullen Girl

I have an incredible desire to declare myself “closed” and drop out of everything for a week. God, I’d be thrilled with even a single day.

I need to stop and think. There are decisions begging to be made, directions to declare. But everything is moving so fast. I have ten things to deal with today and twenty tomorrow.

I want to dress up slick and go somewhere swank and completely distracting from the day to day norm that overwhelms me now. But I do not want to go alone, and all my heart currency is currently tied up in old heart break stocks. I have no energy or interest in starting a new thing with a new person. I just want simple companionship.

I’m exhausted. Everyday I must invent. I plan my lessons the night before I must present them. The only way to get ahead would be to work through Sunday, but then my daughter would have not a single day of the week when I give her all of my attention. She is only four. Even the entire breadth of a Sunday in the park is not enough for her to satisfy her need of me for the week. I am always playing catch-up.

Yesterday morning, I had no classes and a couple free morning hours before my appointment to see the wizard on Rokko (otherwise known as my therapist). I took my daughter on a walk to the temple near our house. We stood an watched an elderly man as he pulled the thick twisted ropes to ring the bells, tossed coins into the box, clapped his hands and bowed his head.

“Why is he praying, Mommy””
“To have peace in his heart,” I said.
“I don’t have peace in my heart,” she said.
“Well, would you like to pray too?” I knew she really wanted to ring the big bells. I watched her face study the scene intently, thinking hard. Stagefright and shyness overcame her.
“No. I think I have a little bit of peace in my heart. I’m OK today.”

We walked behind the temple to see the statue of the stone warrior covered with light green lichen. We stood under him and studied the thick curving flames carved into the rock behind him, his severely creased brow, his straight arm thrusting out the heavy sword.

“Why is he angry?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe he’s defending the temple. Maybe he’s fighting the bad guys.”
“I don’t think he has very much peace in his heart,” she said.
I laughed, the sound quickly absorbed by the mossy stone walls surrounding us. “You’re right, Kio-chan. I don’t think he has very much peace in his heart.”
Kiomye turned and looked at me. “Are you OK today, Mommy? Do you need to go ring the bell?”
“Mmm. I think maybe I better.”
“Yeah,” said Kiomye, “I think that’s a good idea.”

I am recounting all of this in a modern café on Rokko Island. The air conditioning is turned up too high. It’s not that hot today. The artificial cold is raising goosebumps on my skin and marring my smooth bare legs. I will grow irritated and leave this scene before it grants me the peace I was seeking. Temple bells and coffee shops just do not seem to be doing the trick for me these days.

posted by Scribbler @ Friday, June 09, 2006