So You’ll Probably Survive

I took my black box of sacred things out of my closet tonight. It’s a wooden box that I made in juniour high and decorated with Elfquest illustrations. It’s one of my oldest possessions that I still keep with me, and has held everything physical I’ve held dear since I first got it. Originally it was to have held comics, but my measurements were a bit off, so it became a place for keepsakes.
Today my box holds concert tickets (festivals, Collective Soul, Buck 65, Joydrop, April Wine, and Big Sugar to name a few), a ticket from when I went to a Terry Brooks reading and signing, a Moby band pass from Moby’s bass player, a leaf from a Molly Zenobia album, post cards, a piece of paper that my class mates wrote upon back in high school detailing the things they like about me (they loved my hair, thought I was funny, found me smart, poetic and personable… and sexy), band stickers and temporary tattoos, notes, fliers, a couple notebooks of my writings, my set of glass rune stones, a small statue of buddah, a black bag that holds a small glass bottle which in turn holds notes and coffee beans from Poe and also small stones, nine photo albums and letters from friends past and present.
In the latter two of those many items I find the most interesting and memory strengthening pieces of my history. The ones from the people who have very important places in my life mean the most to me. My disciples have sent me some great letters and cards. I have several letters from Ashley, a wonderful Christmas card from Alisha (I love the drawing she made of she and I holding hands and skating, it’s adorable), a letter Wanda sent me with a great mixed CD she made me (I have it playing right now), and various photos of Sascha, but sadly nothing from April. I must remedy that sometime.
I have a few letters that I never replied to, or from people I have lost touch with. One is from a penpal who I never was able to respond to. It somehow became hidden last year and I’ve finally discovered it. The sender had just seen Juliana Hatfield live the previous Friday (oh how jealous I am, Juliana is great!), lived in Athens and generally seemed really interesting. It’s a shame I didn’t reply way back then, but I just sent her an e-mail once I discovered her address.
Another letter I rediscovered was from a girl I talked with for quite a while. Maja was from Slovenija, and I remember talking with her during the early hours of the day. I enjoyed talking with her quite a lot at that time. Once she sent me the above letter with a photo in it. I’m not sure why I’ve kept it in the box so long, but it’s been a catalist for my thoughts tonight.
I’ve been thinking of how much of an impact even the most fleeting of relationships can have on people. As the scrap I wrote last night indicated, this is something Ive been putting a lot of thought into over the past couple days. As I opened my window and breathed in some cold air just now, and looked out at the darkened houses, it really hit me how many people I remember for no apparant reason, and how they have shaped my beliefs and life path in unexpected ways.
There was a man who visited my elementary school for a career day. He was the author of a book of ghost stories, an amature magician and worked at a local resturant for a living. I remember having that man wait on my at that very resturant with my parents months later, and remembering how impressed I was by him, it’s no wonder I hold the state of being an artist and surviving on a job like that in high esteem. Business men do not impress me. Those who sacrifice status for their noble passions always do.
In California I was camping with my family once. In a play ground I met a girl and hung out with her for a while. Not long after she had challenged me to a game of pool. She turned out to be a twelve years old hustler, and soon won, claiming I owed her some dollars in exchange for losing to her. I retreated to my family’s camp site and she followed, insisting on payment. I broke out some Canadian cash from my pre-teen wallet, which was actually a plactic container really intended for keeping things safe from the dangers of water, and she didn’t believe it was real, called it fake. I don’t know what I learned that day, if anything, but it has stayed with me longer than it should have.
I’m not done with my meditation on connections. I believe this is an important and ongoing internal exploration that I’ll be undertaking for a while. There are always lessons to be learned from everything and everyone, that’s one thing I’ve discovered.