Yes. Good Bicycles are Expensive

I called Joseph this morning from the gym.
"I need your help."
Joseph used to work for me when he was in college. He's 25 now, 6'2", Irish Catholic, the son of a plumber. He used to be our nanny/driver/cook--my rent a husband. He kept the house together when I went back to school. He was very interested in Zen, I introduced him to Seido. My kids loved him. He was just perfect to have around pre-teens. Our lives ran like clockwork
"Sure, anything. What."
"Can you bring your truck and go with me to get my bicycle from the farm?"
"Ohhhhhhh.....man....Haley......you okay?"
"Yeah."
"That guy fucking sucks. I always told you that guy fucking sucks."
So Joseph picked me up and we drove out, and I told him the story. Jay had told me he was going to be in the city today, so I figured we wouldn't run into him. But who knows? Jay and I actually talked yesterday.
"It's good that you're going to climb El Cap," I quipped. "Perhaps you'll find your balls at the top."
"Tell me," he demanded. "What you would have done if I'd told you the truth? I had to lie. You would have been upset, right?"
"I would have been upset. And we would have had an argument. And you would have had to put on your big boy panties and negotiate with your woman. But at least I would still want to look at you."
We had taken a drive in his car to discuss the situation.
"Do you love me?" I asked him, suddenly.
"No."
"Then turn the car around, because there's nothing more to discuss."
"There's a lot more to discuss!"
"There is nothing more to discuss. Hooray! Problem solved."
And finally, because I wouldn't say anything else, he had to. I got out on 8th street.
But in the evening, the phone rang.
"I'm sorry. I love you. I really do love you." He said. Then he hung up.
So, I decided to go get my bicycle.
So Joseph and I drove out to the farm, and he loaded the bike into the bed of the truck. I went into the house to get my climbing gear, but decided against it. Bad karma. If this does go down the toilet, I'll get my own. I sniffed the pillows. They still smelled good. Like him. Elena's toys were on the couch.
I took Joseph out to lunch in repayment and listened to his woes. He did some work for Seido over the summer which he wasn't paid promptly for. I intervened and got him the money. Seido can be a bit strange. Then we went to the Peace Nook, a tax free bookstore/hippie watering hole and bought some books. He's just enough younger than me to feel like a nephew rather than a prospect, but I feel very close to Joseph, very protective.
I feel so tough and ugly. I hate feeling this way, like all my pretty and my softness is just out the window. I feel like a dyke. I guess this is self protection. I've been in this strange good mood, this sort of "git her done" mood. But I feel very detached. This state of mind is very dangerous for me. All the big changes in my life have come about when I've been feeling this way. I feel past all emotion. I scheduled myself for a Juvederm injection with my dermatologist--with his married female partner, actually, since the last time I went in for something, he handed me his cell phone number and told me to call him any time. I think I'll dye my hair blonde--see what that's all about.
Lilly and I sat on the couch last night and took turns reading each other The Sweet Far Thing. Do you think Yeats means Mary, the mother of God, when he says "rose of all roses, rose of the world"? I need to find the poem.
I don't want to feel.
I went to Yoga yesterday. I was able to go farther in my forward bends than I ever have in my whole life. I think the weight lifting is actually making me more flexible. I think the strength somehow helps the stretch. I thought--this is sort of a metaphor. I've been pursuing this for years--and what finally gets me where I was going was heading in the opposite direction. I've had terrible issues opening my hips. I injured one about 10 years ago, and it's been tight as a cord ever since. I couldn't even sit cross legged--but after about 8 weeks of weight training, the other night in class it opened right up. And I could sit there like everyone else. Amazing. It was strength I needed, not stretch.
Ahhhhh.
In Shivasana I just lay there. "think of your heart's deepest desire." The teacher said (he used to be my bass player 8 years ago)
"Help." I thought. It was the only thing I could think. "Help."
And I felt this peace, this lightening of spirit. I felt a breeze blow through my heart. A reprieve for my poor aching soul.
It didn't last, but at least I know it's there.
"Thanks."
Thanks.
Oh, wow. I don't know. It's never easy is it?
"Did you ever do anything like this to mother?" I asked my father, calling him for advice.
There was a long pause.
"Oh, Jesus, great. Great. That's just great. Put mom on the phone."
I shouldn't have told so many people. But I needed to at the time. I feel like such a messy idiot.
I'm sorry. Forgive me. I love you. Thank you.
That's my 1/2 hour.