Pen and Notebook
by Natalie Goldberg
They don't know each other, live on two different sides of town but you and I know that in one infinitesimal moment one will brush against the other in the aisle of a pharmacy or grab for a paper in a rack outside the food coop and a flame will ignite. Even then they won't know how lucky they are—so much possibility, so much chance to go this way or that. Though most likely in the end they'll ride the tracks that were laid for them back home in Laramie and Iowa City—so straight and defined.
And here you and I could become too conventional—give Nell a Midwestern twang, a love of casseroles and jello salads, church in there somewhere and the same tree decorations every Christmas. Ryan likes horses, long wires of fence along a two-way road and a big steak.
Both are happy they made it out of where they come from. New Mexico has opportunity. A lot of Native Americans and chili rellenos and art fairs.
Let them wrestle with each other's body between cool sheets, let them be thin and muscular, their running shoes on the floor, having been ripped off and still tied, let the windows be open, their eyes closed, tremors ripple down their spines. Let the dandelions pop out along the curb and clouds fly across the heel of the nearest mountain. Let them for these few hours know a bliss they mistake for god. Only years later they'll know it was a terrible god. Every little moment when they are thirty and thirty-five and forty and forty-five. All the way up to seventy-eight when a bird whispers in Nell's ear: this is it. The last day.
Then let her drop her life selling merchandise, her worries about her two children, her old memories of Ryan. Let her lie still with a solid grief, mourning abundant with gratitude for the sunlight on piñon needles out the window.
But maybe this is all moving too fast. One thing here, then gone. What can you capture in between? A cherry, a geranium leaf, a pair of sunglasses, a cup of tea, a chair, fan, bruised knee. One person sends a message across space and another responds. We all want love though we rarely admit it. Instead we let Nell and Ryan play out the strings of our heart. We—you and I—remain. But we will die too. What will we mourn—ink and paper? What will we feel gratitude for—the close detail, the intimate breath of this one life?
All content in SmokeLong Quarterly copyright 2003-2014 by its authors.
Natalie Goldberg is the author of eleven books including Writing Down the Bones which has sold well over a million copies and most recently Old Friend From Far Away: The Practice of Writing Memoir. She teaches writing workshops and retreats nationally. For her schedule see: www.nataliegoldberg.com.
Robinson Accola creates artwork for SmokeLong Quarterly on an as-needed basis.
|Issue Twenty-One (June 15, 2008): Paper Mouse by Bob Arter «» The Folk Singer Dreams of Time Machines by Matt Bell «» The Bone Orchard by Randall Brown «» Disease Relics by Blake Butler «» We Decided to Make Porn by Brian Allen Carr «» The Baby Drop-Off by Natascia Casey-Dean «» The Cougar by Dave Clapper «» Anointed by Myfanwy Collins «» Sister Earth by John Colvin «» Soap by Katrina Denza «» The Interpretation of Light by Murray Dunlap «» The Hole by Ashley Farmer «» Repair Man by Kathy Fish «» In the Kitchen She Wakes by Stefanie Freele «» American Gothic by Scott Garson «» Lobster Girl by Alicia Gifford «» Pen and Notebook by Natalie Goldberg «» Memento Mori by Rosanne Griffeth «» BiC by Steven Gullion «» Parting by Evelyn Hampton «» Tuesday by Lindsay Hunter «» Waiting on Lombard Street by W.P. Kinsella «» Johnny by Nance Knauer «» Like Swimming by Jeff Landon «» Feeling Sad by Darby Larson «» Alone With Cooper by Ellen Meister «» The Angel's Visitation by Corey Mesler «» South Dakota by Mary Miller «» California Fruit by Meg Pokrass «» Home Made by Bruce Holland Rogers «» Handful of Dirt by Jim Ruland «» Steam City Girl by Paul Silverman «» Sugar by Claudia Smith «» The 13th Toast by Amy Sparks «» Gathering by Kelly Spitzer «» Tiny Shadows by Maryanne Stahl «» Double-Exposure by Thomas White «» Epistemology by Joseph Young «» Why This Isn't a Good Story to Tell by Shellie Zacharia «» Liquid by Michelle Zellers «» Real Estate by Bonnie ZoBell «» Interviews: Bob Arter «» Matt Bell «» Randall Brown «» Blake Butler «» Brian Allen Carr «» Natascia Casey-Dean «» Dave Clapper «» Myfanwy Collins «» John Colvin «» Katrina Denza «» Murray Dunlap «» Ashley Farmer «» Kathy Fish «» Stefanie Freele «» Scott Garson «» Alicia Gifford «» Rosanne Griffeth «» Steven Gullion «» Evelyn Hampton «» Lindsay Hunter «» Nance Knauer «» Jeff Landon «» Darby Larson «» Ellen Meister «» Corey Mesler «» Mary Miller «» Meg Pokrass «» Bruce Holland Rogers «» Jim Ruland «» Paul Silverman «» Claudia Smith «» Amy Sparks «» Kelly Spitzer «» Maryanne Stahl «» Thomas White «» Joseph Young «» Shellie Zacharia «» Michelle Zellers «» Bonnie ZoBell «» Cover Art "Five Years of SmokeLong" compiled from art by Marty D. Ison, Robert Dornberg, Malina, and Rebecca Gullickson «» Letter From the Editor|