Every time in moments of despair, when pain and death fade from my thoughts and feelings, during the brief moments of quiet, I find the strength only to shout to the Universe, “Help me!” and ask it the short question, “Please, show me why I have been given THIS trial, what should I endure from it, what should I understand?”
And every time, she, loving me, gives me an answer. These answers are different – they come in various forms, but ultimately, the meaning that needs to be understood always boils down to one thing.
…This time, I asked HER a legitimate question, “Please, tell me, why this love, if it only leaves my soul in darkness and it’s unbearable to go on living? Because Love only drives us forward – real Love… it illuminates, it enlightens, it lifts us up, it purifies… And all my previous falls into it brought me just such transformations… So what’s wrong this time? Was it because it started with desire? Was it because it didn’t grow from within – pure, but instead gained power from the madness of a night spent in the hallway? But the nature of IT doesn’t matter, IT itself matters. LOVE… Or is what I call by this name just something else? Please, answer me, help me understand – WHY? Why this pain, why this balancing on the edge and the fear of dying, drowned out by the strong desire NOT TO LIVE?”
I fell asleep with this question on my lips, with great fear realizing that I had already started preparing myself to leave this life…
Monday brought me the necessity to fix my car. Life on inertia – sometimes tragedy, but sometimes inertia is helpful – during its brief periods, we have time to think and understand – what we need to understand… Sitting in a small café near the auto service, waiting for my car to be repaired, sipping homemade glisse – weak sweet coffee, into which I threw a piece of separately bought vanilla ice cream – reading “The Perfumer,” languishing in devilish anticipation, walking during breaks around Cheremushki, enjoying “smoking” “R1” through a mouthpiece, inhaling the fresh air after the long exposure to smoke, I gave myself time to realize, perceive, and receive answers to the questions I had asked the Universe the night before…
Answers come, as I’ve said, always. But they always come differently. Sometimes they can be heard on TV – if you tune in properly… Sometimes they come from the mouths of strangers in the subway. Sometimes, in unexpected places, they’re said by unexpected people, found in books, seen in dreams… And sometimes they simply resonate in our heads as simple knowledge. There it is – the token. The token has fallen, and I UNDERSTOOD. I suddenly realized that I already knew the answer…
My token fell when I lowered the mouthpiece into a small leatherette envelope, which contained the freshly bought cleaning brushes for the mouthpieces. I looked at the tip of the mouthpiece sticking out of the envelope and UNDERSTOOD…
I suddenly understood the meaning of the mysterious, irritating phrase that deserved to be the title of a book by one of my favorite novelists – Ernest Hemingway. Until now, I had always dismissed the constant necessity to UNDERSTAND the meaning of this phrase… After all, why, for what right, who can obligate me, why does my conscience torment me over the fact that I MUST, but I DO NOTHING to UNDERSTAND the meaning of this – such a simple and seemingly understandable “THE PARTY THAT IS ALWAYS WITH YOU”… It tormented me, both the sense that I had to understand this, and the shame that I DIDN’T WANT to understand it… I know what I feared – for if I understood what it meant, I would forever lose the reason to PITY MYSELF…
I know a lot about self-pity. I know how destructive it is, I know its mutually exclusive meaning with Love… But if we cling to something – it means it serves us… What did self-pity serve me? A question deserving of reflection within the framework of a monograph. But why? I accept my self-pity, just as I accept pain and anger, joy and hatred, round hips and newly appeared wrinkles.
But now I have “allowed” this self-pity to be, and at the same time, I have “allowed” myself to understand what “The Party That Is Always With You” means… This phrase was spinning in my thoughts – “party, party… party, that is always with you…”
“WHAT – is always with you? – I thought, – WHAT could be that party? The party that will always be with you, no matter what? That won’t leave you, only receiving your permission to be? What is it, this party? What is it like? What word can be used to name that which is embedded in the title of Hemingway’s book?”
And what is it – what is always with me and what can be celebrated? Celebrate! CELEBRATE LIFE!!!
My God! There it is! Celebrate life! How many times have I uttered this phrase in Russian, and never understood its deeper meaning, its esoteric essence… To celebrate life doesn’t mean to indulge in idleness… To celebrate life – this is…
Suddenly, my body was seized with a large shiver – how sharp this realization was. In one moment, all feelings seemed to be filtered through a peculiar, complex filter and sparkled like diamonds inside. Through their transparent facets, the world appeared to me – amazing. Multicolored, sparkling… Transparent – amber… like the very facets of what burned in my soul – a Great Love…
So this is why you came into my life, young beautiful human, still not having found yourself. But making me open my soul to the great pain, which brought me great purification….
To celebrate LIFE – simply as it is… My pain – and any desire for death – is nothing but a STRONG desire FOR LIFE. And I am ready to accept this life in its entirety. Even if until the end of my days in this body, I never taste the sweetness of that great happiness I dream of… Alas, not everyone can fly to the stars. This is objective reality. But, remembering the words of even a primitive song, one can simply KNOW that “if you really try”…
I accept you, life, I allow myself to be in this life – in that great celebration, which is always with me.