Dear Samantha...Acceptance

3/12 - Acceptance

Dear Samantha -

Have you seen the film, "Patch Adams?" Not like it is new or anything, but it has that absolutely beautiful Pablo Neruda Sonnet in it. Remember? He began to read it to the girl of his dreams at a party? She worked her way through a sea of balloons and found him perched on his knees reading the first half of the poem to her:

Sonnet XVII

I do not love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire;
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.

Stunning, isn’t it? Then later, after she is violently murdered, he reads the rest of it to her at her grave. It slays me:

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you this way because I don’t know any other way of loving
but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.

Samantha, isn’t that passion reason to live? I feel it, and I haven’t felt much for a long time. I cannot turn it off and pretend in life.
I have to express it somehow. As foggy an unfeeling as I seem on the outside, I am screaming underneath. Writing will be my vehicle to share it with the world; no teaching. I am telling you this because I think you’ll understand. I am so thankful for my teaching experience; the kids are fantastic, and you have been an incredible supervisor and friend to me. But this nightmare has taught me that I have to do more. I have been simmering for so long; it is time to create. I have so much to share.

Do you know the scene where Robin Williams is sitting in the group therapy circle in the mental institution, and one man is catatonic, and in a constant state where he holds his arm up in a perpetual "choose me, choose me" position? That is how I have felt. Stuck.

Now that I am somewhat able to sift through the cobwebs in my brain,
I feel compelled to write you and thank you, again, for your compassion. This is the most humbling, difficult experience of my life and you single-handedly have made my healing process much easier; you have given me peace of mind knowing that school is under control. Thank you.

Today I picked up my mail after two weeks (nothing changes) and I was completely blown away by the package that you sent me. Please extend my thanks to my students; they are remarkable - and to the staff- such kindness! Samantha, it REALLY brightened my spirits. In addition, I LOVE the "War is Over" post card that you sent me a note on. Not only am I a huge John Lennon fan, but I also love to frame black/white photos, postcards, etc. I most certainly will be hanging it amidst my others.

The drug therapy is beginning to stabilize me a bit, but every day, without fail, there has been a surprise-debilitating side effect. Yuck. I'm a bit slow of speech, but my writing isn't hindered. In fact, I have been writing prolifically; It's incredibly therapeutic, and I have been getting some interesting results. It is definitely rekindling my passion for the pen. I will keep you updated.

Blahblahblahblah ...who the fuck am I kidding! Who am I trying to impress?I may as well mass produce this one and send it to everyone that I have ever worked for in an attempt to make them think that I am sane enough to explain.

Sincerely, Ana

Ana's Download of the Day - "Minor Threat" - The Complete Discography


... TRUE Punk.
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