" I have been chopped and milled and crumbled and then crumbled some more."
Isn't it funny how the more you don't want change the more change happens? This is what life for me is right now. It's kind of crazy. Of course, we all go through changes and I'm not the only one who experiences this; however, I was feeling very sorry for myself yesterday afternoon.
One thing though, yesterday I kept repeating a word over and over in my head -- like a piece of rock candy rolling over and over my tongue -- and it was an annoying mantra for me that wouldn't stop. That word is "entropy." Although this word generally applies to thermodynamic properties in a scientific process I could not get it out of my head.
What is entropy? For starters, here are a couple of online definitions:
1. "...entropy is also a measure of the tendency of a process..." http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Entropy; or
2. Lack of order or predictability; gradual decline into disorder, http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/entropy
I also interpret the word with this analogy:
Imagine a beautiful blank new sheet of paper fresh out the the ream you just bought at the store. Now, you grab this sheet of paper and crumble it in your hand and squish it into a little ball. Then, you try to open up that sheet of paper. Next, lay it on the table and try to flatten out the creases and attempt to lay it as flat as it did before the crumbling action. That sheet will forever and irrevocably be changed and will never be all nice and new and fresh-looking ever again. It will never be back in its original state for that matter, a tree. Hence, the process the gradual decline into disorder, entropy.
I have to keep telling myself to "man-up" and have the spirit of the pioneering women I so admire and love to read about where they pull themselves from their boot straps and just forge onward. I so want to be like that type of woman that I admire. I want to stand tall, and be strong, and not let things bring me down. But like that sheet of paper, it will eventually dissolve into nothingness with the elements and everything it has endured will be forever forgotten.
Reader, I know you understand, because I am not alone in my attempt to accept changes as they are thrust upon me. You all endure this too. I feel this slow unravelling, this decline into eventual nothingness is what bothers me. Before I dissolve into nothing I want to leave something on that sheet of paper that can be appreciated: maybe a poem, a good story, a love letter, a beautiful drawing, before it dissolves away to be forever forgotten.
Friends, I am at a crossroads in my life because I want to do something with it before I am dust to dust and to dust I will return and all that blather. I AM THAT SHEET OF PAPER. I have been chopped and milled and crumbled and then crumbled some more. I am not yet dissolved into nothingness. I am trying to stand for something in my life. I want to advocate for a cause. I want to live with relish and to quit being comfortable in just living and breathing. Sometimes I glaze through dish washing, sweeping, dusting, arranging material items in a room, paying bills, yadda yadda BLECH! Fuck that! I want to strive for more than that.
Why was I feeling like this? What set this off? My mother called me yesterday to tell me someone who was once very close to me and was in love with me and whom I loved too was suffering with Diabetes really bad and his legs were to be amputated. Although I had not thought of him in many years I began crying and I couldn't stop sobbing because at that moment after she told me I felt a remnant of that love that we once had and I was crying for the loss. Entropy all over again. We were both once young, fresh, new, and in love and made plans for our futures. We both eventually went our separate ways. I grew up in a small town and everyone knows about everyone's business; hence, my mom hearing this news and thought I should know.
I was so distraught that I went for a long walk in the desert near the Gila River Indian Community. And I came upon this sign that said "No Dumping" and "No Trespassing"
Sorry sign, but as you can see, your futile attempt at order has been disrespected by the graffiti. I stood and looked at this sign (and took this picture) and thought, there is entropy occurring all around us and there will always be dumping and there will always be trespassers in our lives and entropy does not respect signs.
I continued to walk and think with my hands in my pockets because I did not plan on walking in the desert on a windy blistery day with pollens swirling all around me and carrying those little yellow blossoms from the palo verde trees nearby. I must have looked deranged with my long hair swirling all around me and making little dust clouds with my feet with every step that I took. I was thinking of all the changes and twists and turns in my life and all the people I've met along the way. I was sobbing and talking to myself and struggling to "man-up" in my emotions because I felt an unravelling like a ball of yarn that was going to fly with the windy day.
Then, something snapped inside of me when I remembered my little 4'11 foot grandmother standing next to me at my grandfather's funeral 28 years ago. She grabbed my hand and squeezed very hard as she looked up at me (I was head/shoulders/elbows taller than her. God rest her soul) and she said to me in Spanish as I was ready to sob really really loud, "Don't be stupid!" Well, was it in my head or did I hear it again? I heard her voice clear as the day was windy and I immediately snapped to attention as I always did in her presence and stopped crying, just like that.
After I stopped crying I looked up and saw the sun peeking through dark clouds right next to a telephone pole so I took this picture:
I felt so small next to the telephone pole and the sun was so high up. The timbre of my Grandmother's voice still lingered in the breeze. If she could stop crying after all she had been through, her own "entropy" i.e. growing up during the Mexican Revolution, having a child die in her arms whom she nursed when she was only 10 years old, immigrating to the U.S., learning a new language, losing her husband, etc., all the hardships that our grandmothers and grandfathers and "pioneers" endured in their life, I thought, 'I guess I can stop crying and march onward and forward in this life.' I felt better after that little interlude with the wind and the sun and the telephone pole and my grandmother.
I just have to accept whatever comes my way and I know I will have my moments and cry because I'm a big crybaby, but I think I'll come up with a new mantra today and set "entropy" aside for another day. I just know that I need to put something down on my sheet of paper before it dissolves with the elements.
I think I'll go write a poem now.
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