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I'm
enlightened and it's not as bad as I thought.
A
love story now anyway without intent.
I'm enlightened and it's not as bad as I thought. Really, nothing
has changed, except everything. I can still smoke, drink and enjoy
making buns, even nicer and faster than ever. I'm doing the same
things as always. Washing, cooking, shopping, sleeping, taking a
crap, talking on the phone and painting.
It
hit me while taking a shower.
I keep avoiding it time and time again. Either I'm late getting
to the bathroom in the morning and someone else is in there already,
so I'll get dressed instead and make breakfast and that's it for
the day. Or I'll make plans to shower in the afternoon when the
balcony is bathed in sunlight, nice and hot, but something else
will pop up. Taking a shower later on in the evening is also not
on because my hair will end up in a tangled mess while sleeping.
Meanwhile the scent is getting stronger and stronger, slowly entering
the comfy stage. I don't shower very often. Maybe once a week. But
now, one very early morning, sitting at my computer, almost shivering
from all the coffee and fags, I did it.
Standing in the bath tub, I was feeling quite dizzy, also needing
to go to the loo. After I managed to premix the water to a comfortable
temperature I adjusted the shower head and stepped under it. I could
feel the perfect shape of my head, the way it can only be felt when
water is running through your hair. I massaged my cold arms from
top to bottom with scrubbedy bath gloves, moved on to my tummy,
my thighs and calves, feet and toes. The warm water was running
and running and I was filled with gratitude for all this warm water
and that I was allowed to use it. I was taking a shower and I was
so very happy doing it.
In
earlier days, before I was enlightened, I showered too.
Not
that I didn't have good times before. Too often, I thought sometimes,
and to clearly visible, and I felt a little silly because of it.
Like someone who doesn't take the big world problems serious enough
- how could I smile in the face of catastrophes and the reality
of getting older and wrinklier every day, staring certain death
in the eye.
And
always this chitchat about the kids. What they're saying, what they're
doing, how they look, how they sleep, how they eat. Who wanted to
hear that.
I've been feeling odd for a long time. First up it's wrong for an
artist to have 5 children. The planning is already off the charts.
Planning was very difficult anyway. I tried. I took the pill - a
very bad invention, totally beside the point. Your breasts grow
in a way you never wished for, if you're unlucky you break out in
pimples, you're desire for sex dwindles, your body believes you
are pregnant and can't understand that nothing is coming out down
under. Many cry a lot. With the spiral in my belly I bled for 6
weeks straight. It was very expensive and still had to go anyway.
At around 30yrs of age and with 3 kids already, I went to get sterilised.
A small operation. The worst thing about it was the pain around
the collarbone region, caused by air being pumped inside of me,
to reach the delicate small parts snaking around the womb. They
are inflated away from each other so to speak, to make it easier
to separate them. I told the Doctor "If I really want another child,
It'll work anyway." He didn't think that was funny.
Eight
years later I was pregnant again for the first time.
We'd suddenly fallen in love again after being separated for a year.
Pretty disturbing. Then, I did this test and threw it in the garbage
with it's two pink stripes. It couldn't stay there either, the garbage
grew suddenly so big, important and radiant.
It's a fascinating thing with these tests. You pee on it and then
you have to wait, I believe 3 minutes. Well, - 3 minutes - 125 years.
First you see a very small bit of pink, you can't be too sure, the
display is tiny and next to it the control strip, pink as well,
you think your eyes are playing tricks on you. Then at some point,
around 80 years later, it's flimmering in front of your eyes and
you don't know anything anymore.
Sometimes tears are blurring your vision. After a long time you
take it into the daylight, afraid you might meet someone, since
everyone recognises this thing. Either you'll realise that the spot
next to the pink strip is definitely white, or it is not. Not that
you'll believe what you're seeing. But you've made a step forward.
In this special case I took the phone and called him. "Hi, I'm pregnant"
I said. He answered "We'll keep it". I could still cry when I think
of it.
Now
we knew nothing anymore. The world displayed different colours.
The sun was shining so pleasantly, we couldn't explain it to the
children and then it was gone again. The small, tiny child was not
born. It was almost exactly six weeks old.
After that I didn't try planning again. I was told I could fall
pregnant again naturally but it was only a 2% chance at my age.
Ha Ha. Years later, I was staying in NYC for 6 months on my own
at the time, he visited me and after he'd left I was positive, positive,
positive to be pregnant again and used up 5 test kits. All of them
stayed white at the crucial spot. I was still positive. One month
later I had the pleasure of both pink strips again. So much for
the planning. My forth child will be 14 in 11 days.
Translation:
Uli Burns
e-book
english
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