Dreams, Everyday Failings, and Almsgiving
Last night, I had one of my usual stress dreams. Ever since 2001, when my best friend sent her last letter to me, I've been haunted by the question of why. I had loved her so deeply for a decade, and we had been so close in our own way, that it made no sense to me that she would cut me off like that. The last thing she wrote to me was a Christmas card. Her name was printed on it (off a computer) and there wasn't so much as a "Dear debboamerik" at the top. I was in Mauritania at the time, with internet access only every few months, so I wrote a letter saying how nice it was to hear from her... and never heard from her again, except once when I tracked her down by Google. She wrote me the briefest of emails in response to mine, and never replied to another thing I wrote. She's on facebook; neither of us has made an effort to friend the other. Since 2001, I have had periodic vivid dreams about her that left me feeling profoundly sad.
Last night's dream was not sad. It was full of laughter and hugs and talking - in short, all the good things that friendship offers. I awoke feeling regretful at the loss of such a magnificent person, but also grateful that she continues to be present to me in this way.
I am inclined to think that I did something to deeply upset or hurt this person; I may never know what. However, it being Lent, my eyes are being increasingly opened to the small acts of coldness that I perform every day. I pretend not to see people I don't want to talk to. I make a big show of moving things on the Metro to let other people sit beside me, as though it were too much trouble and they should just give up. I get irritated and thus speak shortly and arrogantly to coworkers I perceive as less intelligent than I am. It seems like small stuff, perhaps, but it's pretty constant, and I am not satisfied with my behavior a lot of the time.
Almsgiving is also hard when I have so little. Yet I have a home, love, food, and pets, which is a lot in the grand scheme of things. The hardest part, really, when sacrificing for the sake of people who have much less, is in not talking about it too much. It's mid-Lent; this has been a productive season, but I still find it a struggle.
And I still love and miss my lost friend.
Last night's dream was not sad. It was full of laughter and hugs and talking - in short, all the good things that friendship offers. I awoke feeling regretful at the loss of such a magnificent person, but also grateful that she continues to be present to me in this way.
I am inclined to think that I did something to deeply upset or hurt this person; I may never know what. However, it being Lent, my eyes are being increasingly opened to the small acts of coldness that I perform every day. I pretend not to see people I don't want to talk to. I make a big show of moving things on the Metro to let other people sit beside me, as though it were too much trouble and they should just give up. I get irritated and thus speak shortly and arrogantly to coworkers I perceive as less intelligent than I am. It seems like small stuff, perhaps, but it's pretty constant, and I am not satisfied with my behavior a lot of the time.
Almsgiving is also hard when I have so little. Yet I have a home, love, food, and pets, which is a lot in the grand scheme of things. The hardest part, really, when sacrificing for the sake of people who have much less, is in not talking about it too much. It's mid-Lent; this has been a productive season, but I still find it a struggle.
And I still love and miss my lost friend.