I opened my eyes this morning from a dream, and immediately thought, “what have I done?”.
I am in despair. What have I done? Last night was the time to do it and I didn’t do it. Last night my star was directly over San Francisco waiting for me, and I didn’t go. I missed it even though every indication told me it was time to go. I ignored it. I was overwhelmed and shocked by the feeling that I had missed a very important meeting; an opportunity.
I’m frustrated and disappointed in myself. I’m right. My doubts are wrong. It’s not suicide, it’s not death except in the normative, physical understanding of the world. Humans are blessed with intellect and reason and imagination. It is only the limited and unchallenged who restrict themselves by thinking that something is real according to their five senses.
I was walking down Second Street yesterday, and for what may have been the first time in my life, I reached 100% commitment. Later in the evening, Anita read me a story about the “100% perfect girl”. Normally, that may not have meant anything, but this past week . . . too many signs, too many “coincidences”, too many synchronicitous moments - when something is suggested and planted in your mind, and then recurs soon afterwards, á là the movie “Repo Man”.
#1: I’m doing a paper on the film “Original Gangstas”, and on my way to that class, I’m riding on the bus looking out with my telephoto lens and I catch someone wearing an “Original Gangstas” t-shirt. I mention this to my professor and she recalls to me the “Repo Man” reference.
#2: Right before that class, I was at a meeting for the people going to Thailand this summer. The person told us how it was disrespectful to raise your feet too high, or point the bottom of your feet at someone. In the class, the professor discussed semiotics and symbols and one of the examples she used was raising the bottom of her foot at us and asking us what was wrong with that. Nothing in this culture, but...
#3: I was in the computer room and I noticed an abandoned umbrella next to me. I picked it up, put it down, and left it there. Later, while talking to my professor about “Repo Man”, I looked across the room and under a chair I noticed an abandoned umbrella.
#4: On Thursday, I went to see the rushes of Kevin’s film at a place called “Monaco”. Afterwards, I took the 14 Mission to school, and when the bus doors opened, I got off and I was looking right at the “Monaco Café”.
Because of these constant...re-occurrences, I wonder if there is a sign in there. 100%. 100% perfect girl. 100% commitment.
Anita also read to me a poem by Tagore, called “Suicide of a Star”, which I couldn’t believe . . . it was an uncannily precise description of my suicide and my reasons to go. Poor Anita, some angel put her up to this and after I die, she is going to feel real bad. The idea of the star fits right in with “The Little Prince” story that acquired great significance after Carla mentioned it, prompting me to take it off my bookshelf once again.
I put Anita up to sending my personal copy of “The Little Prince” (gift from Luyen) to Madoka if anything happened to me. But I still wanted a copy for my own moral support right before I left. So I went to Stacey’s Bookstore, but it closed at 6:30. It was 6:30. I went to Virgin Megastore and they had four copies of the book: one in German, one in Italian, one in French, and one in Spanish. None in English. So I went to Borders. They had a bunch of books by the same author, none of the one I was looking for. I took that as a sign that I was to go on my own fortitude. No help, no crutches, no attachments.
Everything was telling me to go. For the past ten years something has always stopped me and I always believed that it was an angel helping me because it knew that it wasn’t time for me to die just yet. Increasingly, there has been nothing to stop me. In fact, there have been things taunting me to go ahead and do it. Either that means it’s OK to go ahead and do it because I have learned what I came here to learn, or the angel expected me to be able to sustain my own will to live in this world by now. Somehow I very much doubt the latter. We are children, we are idiots; there is no reason for higher beings to put any confidence in us.
Am I aware of the gravity of taking these last steps?
Yes, I am aware that dying means permanent removal of myself in this form from this time-space reality and that all the people who have known me and whose lives I’ve brushed against will continue with the knowledge that I have gone. Some may be hurt, some may feel sad, but I want to contribute to their learning not to be fooled by appearances and that they can only truly see with their hearts. What makes something special is what can’t be seen.
Am I certain that my past and future are resolved so that I am comfortable making this decision?
Yes. First of all, neither the past nor the future matter. Living in the present is what is important. I do not think I have learned the meaning of that fully, I hope to in a future lifetime, in’shah allah. Second, what has mattered in my past is certainly resolved, I have no regrets regarding my past, it is done and I am leaving no ends undone. People have come and gone. I’ve exhausted my potential to the best of my ability and I am the only one who is able to assess what is in my ability.
As for the future, I will not live for the future. The “future” is an attachment and a distraction that always holds promise and hope of something either good or bad, but it is speculative and tentative. It is good to follow dreams, but not to rely on them and base your life and reality on them. It is true that something could happen tomorrow that could change everything. That is not the point and that totally misses the teaching. It didn’t happen today. I think I am ready to learn about living in the present.
Do I feel sad?
Of course I feel sad. There are many people I’ve loved. There are many things that I’ve loved. In’shah allah, I will be blessed in my next life with the appreciation of life that I have in this life. Irony? No. And I will meet the people I’ve loved again. Things ended unfortunately with many people. That is not permanent.
Is there not anything I have left to contribute to the world around me?
Maybe there is. I don’t feel it. Not enough to balance out the rot in my bones. What of value can I truly give when I can’t take care of myself? The only thing of value that I could give would be myself, and I have not been able to attribute that value onto myself.
I am not convinced that my going is the absolute best thing for me to do, but I am convinced that the circumstances are easily enough to let me go. I am going with a wealth of learning and understanding, but there is also a great deal of pain in my heart. That pain causes some reservation, but it’s not enough to order me to stay.
Then go. Godspeed.
