Sensitive Spirit

Sensitive Spirit

I’m thankful to have people who tell me I’m crazy.

Is this what you really want?

Yes.

Really?

Yes.

Really?

Maybe.

Exactly my point.

I’m thankful to have a heart that loves so hard

(even if the pain becomes too painful and I have no compass,

No treasure map to direct me)

I am a 

Sensitive Spirit

Or at least that is what Bob said

The night we rocked on chairs on the patio.

He had taught me a breathing routine and told me,

As an opera singer you know how to reach 

the diaphragm. This gives you a little bit of an edge

when it comes to meditation and breathing techniques.

(I didn’t have the heart to tell him: I am just a regular singer.

Just because I was given the part as First Bridesmaid in

Gilbert and Sullivan's Trial by Jury does not make me an opera singer.

In fact, I am often insecure of my head voice.

In high school I found myself in the tenor section with the boys.

My chorus teacher resented my fear of the soprano, more womanly-fit range. That’s why

She used me as an example for how short a dress should not be.)

We closed our eyes together and practiced

Alternative breathing.

Midway in, I opened one eye and stared at him.

If I were a religious person, I would call him my priest.

Instead, we call each other pals.

I stared at his gray hair and his wrinkles,

His soft, pale hands.

And how do you feel?

He opened his eyes and noticed a tear that I didn’t even realize was there.

Okay.

You are a Sensitive Spirit.

Now you’ve made me cry.

We laughed together.

He held my hand in a way I imagine a Rabbi would do

If you told him you and your fiance were getting married

And you wanted him to conduct the ceremony.

(Sometimes I like to picture my Manolo Blahnik heel 

Breaking the ceremonial glass at the end of the wedding ceremony and

My husband's dress shoe helping me shred the rest of the vessel.

We stuff each other’s faces with chocolate-cake

And it stains my white dress

Which makes the whole night even sweeter.)

I haven’t seen Bob in months because he is going through chemo

And it makes me feel like all my ventures in romantic love are meaningless

When life does what it always seems to do which is

Hail the sky with starkness.

Although love makes life so grand,

Which only confuses matters.

What is worth my mind-space and what is not?

I wish I had all the answers.

I grow too impatient.

I am always stuck in my thoughts.

(Don’t worry)

Who are you?