Monday Musings- 37

There isn't a school that teaches you how to dress your house. Where to put the flowers, would pink go with red, and should a bookshelf be dark wood or light? There isn't a school that teaches you how the sunlight should fall. The curtains should fluff. The beads should jangle in the wind. Where to leave the stool? Where to buy the stool? And, how long does it take to find the stool? There are days without chairs-and days without tables- and days of tea cups on white floors. No school tells you how you must make do.

How you must feel when your special friend ties the knot. Must you be tied up in a knot, too? Should you watch her, or should you cry? Should you begin to hope, or give up hope? Should you feel nothing else- but be happy for her? Or, should you mingle her happiness with your own, her security with your insecurity. There isn't a school that teaches you how to feel.

And, how to not fear. How to watch the moon and hear the sounds of the night and know that yours will be quiet. There will be no strangers in the night. Do you sleep better in the mornings? And, do you fear sitting on a bench, in the night wind - a garden overlooking a terrace. Do you climb to the terrace, despite the fear? No school braves you this.

How to know when it is love? How to know if his hand will now linger over yours- how to know today is your day. How to know when it isn't love. How to cook eggs- perfect, fluffy white with cheese- when the moment demands it. How to talk enough- not little, not too much. How to listen. And, then how to say thank-you.

How to make conversation with your house-help. How not to fear strangers. How to show love when you are far away. How to send flowers. No school teaches you this. And, still you- restless souls- want to still go to school. I hear, again and again- how you must, and want to, and someday will go to school again.

Go home. Leave home. Embrace life. You will be in school again. My thoughts, this Monday.

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