I am reading this book, Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins. It was loaned to me by Scott about a year ago. Then I gave it back to him with only a few pages read, because…..Well, just because. I don’t want to get into that story.

I bought another copy for myself, off Ebay. Because the few pages I read seemed interesting and slightly, well, very crazily weird. But good. I couldn’t read it for a long time. It was banished out of sight when the shit hit the fan between he and I. I tried one day to read it, but it made me shake, I got so angry just holding it in my hands. I banished it to my bottom desk drawer for months, didn’t see it or think of it.

So, I picked it up a few weeks ago. No shakes, no anger. It’s actually fun to read now. It still is not really making sense overall. I’m about a third of the way into it. There are quite a few different stories that have not yet intersected, with a common theme of perfume and beets. Yes, beets. Well, nevermind, I haven’t figured out the beet thing yet. These stories take place in Paris, New Orleans, Seattle, the Himalayas. I think it’s the Himalayas.

But there is, in this book, some wisdom. It is in a discussion between 2 unlikely characters, in the shadow of a fictional mountain that rivals Everest. But I swear I wished I had a highlighter yesterday and today when I was reading it.

So here are a couple of the snippets of that conversation.

“I cannot believe that the most delicious things were simply placed here to test us, to tempt us, to make it more difficult for us to capture the grand prize: The safety of the world. To fashion a life of such petty game is unworthy of both men and gods.”

“A life with neither misery or pleasure is an empty neutral existence>”

“Poor little babies are so afraid of pain that they spurn the myriad sweet wonders of life so that they might protect themselves from hurt. How can you respect that sort of weakness, how can you admire a human who consciously embraces the bland, the mediocre, and the safe rather than the suffering that disappointments can bring?”

“Salvation is for the feeble, that’s what I think. I don’t want salvation. I want life, all of life, the miserable as well as the superb.”

Yes, well….me too. I want to FEEL. I want to celebrate. I want to be able to cry. I want to be able to put myself out there, fearlessly, fiercely and experience all that life can offer me. Yeah, I’ve been hurt. And I got knocked down. And I got up, and then I rise, and I thank the grace of God that I can feel, that I can hurt, that I can love, that I can allow what life has to offer in all it’s intensity. Like Rumi says, “You have seen my descent, now watch my rising.”

I could go into a long story about what I was told about this book when it was loaned to me. All I can say, is this part, this side story of this crazy tale, describes me, and the way I live. It describes vulnerability, and the risks I’m willing to take by putting myself out there, and the risks some people are never willing to take for fear of pain. It describes how some people stay in a situation that isn’t really good, and isn’t really bad, for years and years, because it’s their comfort zone, never to experience more. It enables them to stay numb. Numb to joy, numb to pain. Never allowing themselves to be really happy, or really in pain. But allowing themselves to be numb, to numb.

Maybe. Maybe that’s why. I suppose there could be 100 or 1000 different reasons why some people live like that. This was just a new thought for me. It may not be germaine to this situation. How could I know? I only know that some people keep on seeking ways to numb themselves. This is just another way. I could be right, and have some puzzle pieces in place or not. But it’s a new concept for me to consider. And very well could be the truth.

(I will say that what I was told about this book, and what I would perhaps understand from reading it, is exactly the opposite of what I expected, so far.  It wasn’t me I expected to be reading about. I know I’m being cryptic, but I don’t want to say too much here. Bear with me, it is personal. )

Let me just say this. I agree with Alobar. I live like Alobar. I’ve loved, with every fiber of my being. I was hurt, I was knocked down, left for dead. The object of my affection, and the cause of all that pain, was maybe numbing his emotions by doing us both. Keeping himself from getting hurt by love by treating love as if it was mediocre, from either of us. Saying, “look, I can have this with anyone, it’s not so special.” Keeping himself from feeling.

I got up, off the ground, I rose. And now? I hope to find someone who lives like Alobar who is out to feel all the ecstasy, and isn’t afraid that he may feel misery too. Someone who will surrender to the sweetness without fear, that the world offers if you have the guts to grab it.

Love and light, all.