The Seeing

The Seeing

For many of us, something lingers on from first love. For me, Jonny lingers. Although the bad things about Jonny are what had me go, he taught me lessons that have always lived on. One of the best lessons he taught me was seeing. Up until Jonny, I never looked deep enough to be fully alive. Mostly, I skimmed the surface of a feeling, or glanced quick at a sunsetting sea. I missed the intricacies of life’s scenes that evoke the meaning I’d been seeking.

Jonny made me feel in a way I still don’t know how to name. What's the name when you’re hurt in ways that both nourish and scar skin and soul? What name can I give to the silver gleamed gash long hidden beneath stray hairs by my cheek? I don’t know the names but they echo soft confusion to this day when I dwell here. Maybe they’ll exist less if they stay with no name, I keep trying but they never quite disappear.

The leaving was not simple and I try to forgive myself for the time it took to walk. When it was coming close and we both felt it but couldn't name it, Jonny took me to the sea one evening to remind me of seeing. I said I’ve never seen dolphins but hear they swim nearby. Jonny was in one of his good feelings so he took me by the hand and walked me to the edge where the dying waves sizzle into union with the crunchy tan sands, and he said, “Close your eyes and just breathe. Feel the air? Hear the water? Feel your breath? Your feet, in the sand, here you are, earthbound, do you know it?” His voice moved me and he was a Guru and a Lover to me all in one. I did what he told me to do; that’s part of the problem and the joy: I always obeyed. We stood at the edge like that until I came fully into the present and rested in the serenity that exists here. “Yes,” I whispered, in awe, “Yes, I'm knowing it."

“Okay,” his lips moved in my hair near my ear, “Now, open, open for me, slowly, don’t lose the sense of it, just hold and relax and expand as you open.”

I slowly opened my eyes to bring in sight, the sight of the sun meeting water, spreading brilliant burgundy and inky stained purple blush before me. I wanted to sob but collected myself and expanded my vision. He whispered, “Look.” Suddenly, dorsal fins sliced the sparkling waters apart, revealing a small pod of dolphins, fishing in soft waves, circling, swirling together, dancing for me.

“See?” He insisted, an edge to the demand now flickering in. “I do.” I answered, both frightened and thrilled.

“They’ve always been here. You just forgot to look. Never forget to see, baby, live it, live your life, be here for it….Here…” He pulled out a compact, ebony notebook from his inner jacket pocket and passed it to me. I looked at him, uncertain. He explained, “Take it, keep it. It’s good to always keep this with you, when you stop and see, you can write words to help lead you back here whenever you want. Just jot down notes, what you see, how you got here. You’ll always have a path back then…”. He paused and turned me toward him with two hands wrapped around my head. He did that kind of deep look into me that always weakened my resolve. He added, “No matter what happens to us, don’t you, don’t ever, forget to see.”

Then I let out a long stifled sob because I knew we couldn't last forever.

Eventually I did get away and he did do some time for the things he did. I grew and learned, did therapy, had other lovers, got married, raised kids, worked hard, loved and lost more, and from time to time, through it all, I remembered to see. I kept the notebook with me and wrote sparingly, in tiny block letters, subtle words that hinted how to bring me to life here and there. Maybe nothing ever again made me feel quite so alive as the feeling of Jonny, but still I took note of the highest of times.

Today I happened to get back to that spot by the sea for the sunset and the seeing. I went alone which I like to do these days. It's less distracting to my foggy mind, me as my sole companion.

I did the seeing and marveled at the way the sun sets new every time, took in the way my hands are now wrinkled yet somehow still me. The dolphins surfaced and danced. Seven pelicans glided a wave, wingtips touched on air above water, in rhythm to the slow motion beat of nature outside time.

I sat down to jot a miniature note on one of the last pages of Jonny’s notebook. I pondered how to express the color on the wave created by the lingering sun. In the seeing, I noticed a tiny flash of metal next to me in the sand. I dug gently into the crunchy warmth of crushed shell and rock and pulled out a dusty rouge wallet adorned with faded, gold polka dot buttons. I saw the rusty, silver zipper and gently pulled to reveal the inner contents. A clean and orderly, thick pack of one hundred dollar bills were lined up, protected, though worn. Thick, like maybe inches thick, my fingers slowly flipped through and confirmed they were all hundreds.

The beach was empty. I sat, remembering Jonny’s insistence to see. A lot of things he did to me hurt, but the treasure of seeing remains, Even though we couldn’t stay together, I know in his way he wanted me to have it all and more. I brushed off the old wallet and tucked it with his notebook into my inner pocket. I took one more moment to marvel at the utter magnificence of love, and walked on.