We go

Posted by on Feb 14, 2015 in Blog | 2 Comments

kyle and i are walking. it is a dank, cloudy morning in hood river. we had spent a cozy night in the old historic hotel down town. this morning, over a scrumptious scone breakfast at the hotel, he was sharing some of his ideas with me about the book he’s writing. it’s going to be a good book. i want it to become a movie, so people can see it. in the story, the man’s eyes turn black. i’m not telling you why.

kyle is my new boyfriend. and he’s the first one. he’s the first one i see myself staying with. i don’t know that it’ll happen, but he’s the first person i feel i can grow old with. because i feel young with him. and seen. and adored.

after breakfast, we look at a few galleries. and then i take him on the exact walk i went on by myself, earlier that morning. it’s a scenic route. there’s the river, trees, pebbles, ducks, hills, and train tracks.


we are both reaching. we are reaching for the other. i don’t know about him, but inside my head, i am reaching just to be present, in that moment. at the same time, i’m reaching to say things that will help me know him more, or waiting to hear him ask the question that will expose how wonderful i am. there’s things we say, and things we don’t say. i ask him about his grandpa. or rather, his grandpa comes up, when kyle points out a fisherman. his grandpa loved to fish. kyle has a fly fishing rod, that he hasn’t really used. i don’t care so much about this stuff, in as much as i care about him, so i care about learning his history. i care about him fucking me, and me being his, or him being mine, forever, or something close to that (but, short of too long). not sure if it’s gonna work. i hope so. a part of me wonders. that part is the part that (always) wonders if something better will come along

we are being kind and poetic and jovial and thoughtful—that’s the mood. and yet inside my head, it’s a little darker. i think of how this day can be just another page, in the world of make-believe. this, in the context of listening to a few u-tube videos that are interviews with rupert spira (http://www.scienceandnonduality.com/contributors/rupert-spira/) —a man who talks about consciousness, and basically points out that as individuals, we mean nothing. the only real thing is our consciousness, and it has nothing to do with us being a particular person. pure consciousness/awareness doesn’t jive with our body/mind persisting as a unique entity. we are awake or we are not awake. that’s it. the personhood part of us is dispensable. “anita” isn’t so important as “anita” always thought she was.

most of what we consider  living is a charde. we feel things. react. hope. approach. retract. who gives a fuck? we die, and the geese go on being conscious. the rocks sit. of course people cry, when we die. they won’t last either.

we recycle. not reincarnation. just recycle.


it’s grim.

i feel like i’m sort of playing along in this moment, with kyle,  since i’m not blurting out all this stuff about life being impersonal and transient. and yet, i’m not really playing,  because i do see the value of connection with ourselves and others, and enjoying as much as possible, even (especially?!) within this grim world-view. in fact, i am very invested in connection with kyle, my hopefully-will-be-a-longer-lasting-relationship-than-ever, boyfriend. he makes me happy.

all of a sudden, there is a dead oppousm body, splayed on the track. it’s horrible! it’s the best thing that’s happened to me all day!!! i lean over. it doesn’t look fresh, for which i am sad. when they’re fresh, the contrast is so vivid–so close to what was, and now what isn’t—you can almost feel the gasp, the loss. dead bodies show the horror of how things change, without our signing on. the thrill of still being alive. the wish, sometimes, of being dead, like that.

his dead body is perhaps a day old. still, it bares the testimony of a thing that was, and no longer is.  i see that the train and the universe cared for this creature no less than it cares for me.


i understand i am a squished animal, with limited time. it’s the best feeling i’ve had all day.

we go.

we go–not as in, we walk away. we go–as in, we die.

what remains now, is the moment.

and it doesn’t have to be so perfect.

the opposum’s body is so trashed, i can’t tell if the little sack of membrane that was a few feet apart from the body was his brain, or his belly.

somehow, i like this.

i say to kyle, “this is reality. we can put whatever song we want on our iPhone, and play it super loud in the car, and induce a feeling… but this, this is reality.”

i think he gets it. we walk on.

it doesn’t really matter if he does. i do.

hello, life.


  1. Stephen
    March 14, 2015

    That’s some good writing

    • dranita
      March 14, 2015

      Stephen, thank you.


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