Get Away

“Get away from me,” I tell the self-righteous woman in front of me, but she doesn’t. She continues screeching about leashes and laws. It is an early winter morning circa 2005, and Emmett and I are ambling around the ‘hood. We usually have it to ourselves at this hour, but not today. I do understand that some folks are afraid of his big black Malamute-ness, but her shrill tone gets on my nerves.

“Get. Away. From Me,” I repeat, increasing the decibels. She looks surprised but doesn’t shut up. She is leashed to a friendly little dog — he and Emmett are trading news. I step toward her, calling Emmett to heel. We are larger than they are, and she backs away, pulling her dog, who does not want to go. 

“A friend of mine died yesterday,” I say loudly as she scurries away. “Perhaps you could try dialog next time, instead of immediate blame and shame.” I am shaking. Her ugly words linger.

She is not the first person to jump to blame and shame, but it’s always a shock. A relative once accused me of assumptions and projections, yet she never took the time to ask me about anything. She believed hearsay, just like her parents, just like her grandparents. She has since lost the privilege of my presence. I don’t have time for that anymore.

I’ve been swimming distance again, which allows Happiness to take up residence at odd moments throughout the day. Despite the murkiness of the water, Clarity of Thinking comes to call, accompanied by Peace. A lot of folks are so scared a lot of the time, and it emerges as anger. It emerges as war. The way most of us are living is not healthy. 

For the last several months, I experimented with being device-free three days a week. It was wonderful! Screens are addicting to our predator brain – full of false urgencies and disturbing images. I found out that I never missed anything when a day or a weekend went by without checking messages or social media. And the Not-Good-Enoughs did not visit as often. Then, for a solid week, I went phone-free, which meant zero internet. And suddenly had oodles of time. Oh Bliss! Quiet. I could hear me, without distractions or comparisons or assumptions or projections. Simply me. Every single day. Huzzah.