23 - time is now

What you
thinking of
Man, what you do
and what you think you can do?
What you are
What you do
looking out
it ripples on the dance floor!

   —Mark Farina, Dream Machine

~~~

We took the noon train out of Santa Barbara. By the time we got to Camarillo, turning inland and heading into Los Angeles, Camille was napping, oh so charming and sweet. I reached across and put my hand to her cheek, she leaned into the touch, and smiled. One of those moments, you just don’t want them to end. I had pulled out my MacBook, plugged in my earphones and hit play on Kaiserdisco’s Djuma of Love.

Staring out, the landscape and life passing by, framed by the window, scene by scene, unbroken and ceaseless, this living, it gets to me; pondering, looking across at the one I love, how to slow it down, how to avoid going to sleep on it, how to resist the presto-pronto pace, to attend to every splendid thing that occurs, elongating and extending, distilling and savoring what will so quickly pass away….

Yes, endearing moments. We’re at the Tonic Friday night and the DJ cranks up Guetta’s When Love Takes Over. Everybody tapping in, excitement and crazed rapture, through the roof, all engaged, as if we’re on ecstasy, out of control. And I begin doing old aerobics moves, can’t help myself. Kicking out, then to the side, in rhythm, rowdy and teetering, then jumping up and down, pogo-sticking, and Camille’s cracking up, and we're grooving, the place is rocking, and she yells out, laughing, "Be careful Old Man!" And she’s right, if I go down, bones break. “YES!” shouting back, laughing right along. We’re in it, seeing clearly, fully understanding how marvelous it is to feel loved, how good to be seen in all of your outrageousness and imperfections, knocked off corners, and still, there’s love.

She sees that I’m different, and she’s not comparing or worrying about, just going with it. Blows me away that she’s at ease, and to have her make fun of the “old man," she full-on doesn’t give a rat’s ass what others think. And we’re out there, dancing, and hells yes, I am 25 years her senior. Why the hell not?

And flip it for chrissakes, you’re a 40-something woman, and you had a marriage go sour, and you realize that you still got juice, and passion, and you see inside, the self-awareness is keen, about how magnificent you feel and how you’re still in the game, still in it for love. And you meet a guy, or a gal, and he/she’s in their twenties, and there’s something about him/her, you can't put your finger on it. And it happens, you make connection, and I’m telling you, why the hell not?

~~~

Not sure where Camille and I are headed but I can’t help but give myself over to what’s possible. We were sitting at The James Joyce late last night, sipping on Irish coffees, the real deal, and she lets slip she’s been thinking about med school. She said it like it wasn’t quite realistic; well, I just went off. “It’s never too late…” for anything you might imagine. I launched into a testimonial.

The finest, most understanding and compassionate physician I’ve ever had was a woman in her late 30s who had begun as a dental hygienist/assistant. She was putting herself through school, the first in her family to go to college. And when she finished her undergraduate degree, at nearly 30 years old, she just said, “I can do this.” And she went for it, got herself into and out of dental school, and started her first practice. She was popular and word of mouth spread. I talked her up to whoever would listen. When Maya and I moved to San Diego, I’d send her note cards telling her how much I missed her. She became the standard by which I’ve measured all other physicians I’ve encountered.

“Full-on, just get it together and do it. You can’t worry about the details, the money, the unknown. You’ll find a way if it’s right.” And I offered up my favorite thought-gem and goad, from Allan Kaprow, “Imagine something never before done, by a method never before used, whose outcome is unforeseen.”

“Where do you get this stuff?... I’m not sure if I want to move right now, I like where I’m at, I like this.”

“THIS can be anywhere. THIS will follow you around.” I smiled; she smiled back. “Maybe you don’t have to move, maybe you get into UCSD. Think about the support you’d get from all you’ve worked with at the Cancer Center, a network of colleagues already in place.”

I continued, “You’re beyond the pale, you stand out, you’ve got something so many nurses don’t have, and consider it, what you’d bring to the table as a physician who has years of nursing under her belt. And Jesus, just thought of Keats. The medical profession was a ground for him, he chose poetry and moved away from becoming a physician. Maybe you show the way for others to do it differently, large and all-encompassing, multi-dimensional.”

We lifted the last of our Irish coffees and before finishing them off, I said, “You have to do this.”

~~~

We got off the train at Union Station and I drove her home. Didn’t want to leave her, didn’t want to be out of touch. We kissed good-bye and I told her I’d miss her at Christmas. She’s on her way to Baton Rouge and I’m heading out on the road, North, to be with the blood kin via the PCH.

I watched her get to the front door. She turned, waved, and waited for me to drive off.

On the way home got to thinking about all those with dreams that got buried, the life altering and electrifying elements in the deep down, dreams that didn’t make it to the surface, or were inhibited or derailed for this or that reason, destinies on hold, or delayed, or set aside…. Time is now, that’s what I’m thinking.

The time is now.