(15) NO THANK YOU - Part 3

Saadi’s stomach continued to lock down.  She knew, she knew without knowing, while knowing, not wanting to know.  Saadi hung up the phone and slowly walked from her office to the small room that held the copier machine and file cabinets.  Her co-worker, Lynn, was making a bunch of copies.  The singsong whir of the machine serenaded in the background.  The room felt tight just like the life force inside her body.  It took more work to breathe.  She was overwhelmed.  She had to speak to break the chokehold on her emotions.

“My best friend is getting ready to tell me that she’s sleeping with the person I am in love with.”  Saadi spoke softly not even hearing Lynn’s response, she just wanted to vomit the words to break their suffocating hold on her consciousness.  She half heard the encouragement Lynn gave her and prepared herself to leave.  She was getting ready to face something she would really rather run away from. It was all just a feeling but much too strong a feeling to disregard or deny.

Saadi met Luna on the corner by the waterfront.  You could see military and commercial ships in the wharf being repaired.  In fact there was a large cruise ship docked at the end of the street.  It was all white with a black Mickey Mouse logo on the top.

“Greetings Sista,” said Luna.

“Greetings” responded Saadi as they did the customary cheek-to-cheek hug, one on each side.

They turned and started walking towards the neighborhood close by.  They came up on large colonial homes with small manicured lawns.  The sounds of their footsteps stood out as they crossed the cobblestone street. They turned down a street lined with lavender crepe myrtles.  Their beauty irritated Saadi.  How dare they?   Didn’t they know what was going on?  Then the cobblestones began to grate on her nerves.  She usually loved the way they were always slightly slippery.  You had to walk-slide to maintain your balance.  Right now that was too much work.  It was taking an enormous amount of energy and focus to just hold a normal conversation. 

It didn’t take long for Luna to get to the point.  A month, a whole month they had been going out.  The same month she had not heard from him.  Since that last phone call that Saadi had thought was such a victory, her fifth-month victory in her six-month No-Sex campaign.

“I told him he should tell you.”  Luna pressed.

“NO, You should tell me.  You are my old friend.  He is my new friend.  We are sistas.  Aren’t we sistas?”

Words beat inside her head like a drum…

I should know.

     Why didn’t I know?

          What a fool-

               To think that he…

                    Would want me!

Luna continued to talk as they walked.  They were coming close to Saadi’s office. Saadi was trying to figure out how to get out of there, she needed to digest this information.  She felt like a computer that had frozen, she needed to crtl-alt-del. She started chanting inside.

Nam myoho renge kyo, nam myoho renge kyo, nam myoho renge kyo.

One of the local streetwalkers walked up.  She had a somewhat desperate look on her face. She asked Saadi for a ride home, she did not have enough money to even catch a bus.  Saadi had given her rides before on the way home.  She said yes, grateful for an excuse to leave. The three of them went to her car.  First Saadi gave Luna a ride back to her office and told her she would talk to her soon.  Then she gave the lady a ride home.  Afterwards she went home to think and cry and chant over and over and over again. After the first waves of shock wore off she talked to herself.  

It’s all good.  I am determined to claim a victory from this, no matter what.  There is a “lesson learned” here.  What is the lesson, this lesson that I never want to repeat, ever again in no other lifetime, including this one? This feels very old like it has happened before, almost like it’s a tape that loops replaying the same scene over and over. again.  “Karma neh?”  But this time, yes this time I determine, it will be the last.

It is better to know before sleeping.

Waiting may mean you never sleep.

Sleeping may mean you never wait and never know…

We all want to be happy,

And we do our best to obtain it.

Such a fleeting thing…

Happiness based on another person.

Saadi’s life went on.  She mourned her loss, but she was gratified at the closure.  The loyalty to the loc group was no longer necessary.  Her friendship with Luna had been dribbling to an end, now it was over.  Pretenses by either were no longer necessary; Malik had provided the needed exit.

Saadi still cared for him.  She would see him from time to time, even though she was sure Luna did not like it. They never had sex, never kissed intimately or even held hands outside of brutha-sista friendship demonstrations of affection. He was after all, her friend.  She explained it to Luna, as she understood it herself.

“Its two different issues, my relationship with you is not dependent on him and my relationship with him is not dependent on you.  He is my friend and he will continue to be my friend, just as you are Luna.”  Inside Saadi could see that before she and Luna’s relationship had been cracked, now it was broken.

Luna said, “I think we should all be friends and hang out together.”

Bullshit, thought Saadi, who’s she kidding, herself? 

Saadi had known her far too long. Saadi had no desire to hang out with them either.  To see Luna embrace him, to watch him look into her eyes intimately.

No-thank-you.

(14) NO THANK YOU - Part 2

Not long before Saadi moved back to Virginia she went to one of her weekly Buddhist meetings.  That evening there were some special guests, Japanese members visiting from Japan.  Nichiren Buddhism and the Soka Gakkai, its lay organization, was still so new in the United States that sometimes Japanese members would come from Japan to share their experiences.  They hoped to help Americans who were mostly raised Christian, Jewish, or Islamic to better understand the religion. 

At the meeting a middle aged man told the story of how he had lost absolutely everything, his business failed and he became poor and destitute.  He was encouraged to use his religious practice, chanting Nam myoho renge kyo, to pull himself out of hell and to build an even more magnificent life. He said he went through a very difficult process of human revolution. His faith and his life were tested but he never gave up. Now he had a very successful business, where he could take time to travel around the world, sharing his story about faith and victory practicing Nichiren Daishonin’s Buddhism.

Saadi was sitting in the meeting struggling inside.  She had kept the news of her pregnancy from just about everyone, she had not even told her family.  She was in graduate school, the first one to go in her family. Saadi couldn’t bear to disappoint them, even though she was a grown independent woman. Plus things were not going well with Jon.  Maybe it was the look on her face that made the man peer deep into her eyes when he said, 


“When you go to hell use Nam myoho renge kyo to come out of hell.” 

The visitors had brought gifts from Japan, beautiful tokens, trinkets, and souvenirs, a lot of it handmade by the Japanese members.  The man gave Saadi a small fuchsia colored case about the size of a small mailing envelope to hold her prayer book and beads.  He encouraged her to never give up.  She also received a box with four little spoons inside.  Each had the name of a major Japanese city on its handle like Kyoto or Osaka.  Saadi decided to save those for the baby, considering them her first baby gifts.  She hoped one day she would be better able to understand the encouragement she received because at that moment she felt pretty discouraged.

Saadi graduated with honors, shared the pregnancy news with each member of her family and went through all the changes of relocating back with her parents.  Her father was really sick and had been for a few years now.  Taking care of him was wearing her mother out.  It was like their entire lives revolved around his illness, they were living with the only thing in site being his illness and death.  Saadi figured coming home might be good for all of them, having a new baby around would help bring some life into their discouraging situation and she would have her much needed support. 

Her pregnancy went well and the anticipation of a baby gave her parents something else to focus on. Saadi faced the showdown and told her mother she would not be marrying Jon.  Once her mom got through her misgivings about Saadi being an out-of-wedlock mother she got excited. When Selm was born new life breathed into the environment bringing more hope to her and her parents.

Now, they lived a six-hour drive from Jon and Saadi had foolishly assumed that when Jon saw Selm he would fall in love with him just as she had. Of course he would long to be around him.  Even if they were not going to marry they could still enjoy raising their son together. Jon saw Selm and Saadi was sure he loved him but it was in his own way.  Jon was not in Selm’s life very much, not like Saadi wanted; not physically, emotionally, or financially.  Saadi had to carry that burden alone. 

Now here she was with a chance at another relationship, a relationship that she really wanted.  She didn’t want anything to blow it.

Oh my gosh!

Saadi’s mind came back.  She had been holding her breath.

Oh goodness Selm called him Dad. 

"I'm sorry Malik, Selm thought it was his Dad calling."

Now, I know he will run for sure!

But instead he responded, 

“It was nice, I liked it.  I will call you tomorrow.”

Saadi exhaled, she felt a victory.  She was so happy, the six-month plan was working, she liked Malik a lot and it appeared he cared for her too.  Maybe giving up the dream of life in Jamaica, or the storybook dad she had hoped Jon would be; giving them up for single parenting and elder caregiving had all been worth it.  She had finally met that strong distinctive brutha she had long wanted at her side.

The next day she waited all day in anticipation for Malik to call.  She waited the next and the next and the next.  Days turned into weeks and she still heard no word.  Something was wrong she could feel it, a disruption in their connection.

She chanted, “Nam myoho renge kyo.”  

"Do I have the strength to know the truth?" Show me!

Saadi chanted like this for about a week, still waiting to hear from Malik.

It was time for Saadi and Luna’s monthly lunch date, which was pretty much the extent of their hangouts.  It was a hard truth to swallow realizing that if she didn’t seek out Luna she would not hear from her.  This was the hardest part of the Vision Quest, facing the truth.  Saadi dialed Luna's number.

“Hey, hey” the usual pleasantries.  Luna didn’t really want to go eat.  She wasn’t hungry.  She said that yesterday everyone from the Loc House had come to her place.  Someone had cooked her a meal and she had brought leftovers for lunch.

 

“Oh, who came?” 


Even as Saadi asked a voice inside questioned.  


Do I really want to know?  My stomach is getting a tight knot inside. 

“Let’s just meet and go walking,” Luna suggested.

(to be continued)

(2) SAADI'S QUEST: Red Velvet Pillow Pt. 2

RED VELVET PILLOW  

Part 2

My heart is pounding as I round the corner.  This time there isn’t a bus, each person jumps through on their own.  Brutha Ibram is standing waiting for the last person to jump.  He’s the gatekeeper.  He will jump last and the portal will close behind him.  The last person is jumping through.  

I run up panting just as Brutha Ibram’s long lean body starts to pass through the portal. His long locs lift through the air trailing his body as he gracefully glides through the opening.  He moves like a spirit with no bones or joints, fluid like a liquid or gas or light.

graphic by Paulo Canabarro (pvpcanabarro@gmail.com)

No! It can’t close on me.

I scream out his name to stop him. How can I go through?  Every time before he has been there during the jump!  The portal begins to close.

“Brutha Ibrammmmmmm,” I scream. …

“Don’t leave me, don’t leave me. Please, please, don’t leave me.” 

I close my eyes and I jump with all my might determined to grab hold of his energy path, not knowing if I would get caught between here and the other side.

The next thing I know I’m in class with everyone else from the bus.  There is a tall thin lady with a short Afro standing in front of the room.  She resembles Selm’s third grade teacher, Miss Hatchett.  She looks like one of the characters from the old TV show, Little House on the Prairie.  She’s telling the rest of the class to look at me.

“I had my doubts,” she says, “but look at her.  You can clearly see the difference.  She’s come back three times and with each trip she looks better and better.”

I respond, “Yes, I am laughing more.  I’m happier.”

Mark, my brother-in-law, is there too.  He comments, agreeing, “She does looks more youthful!”

I am either packing or unpacking.  Which is it?  I think unpacking. We are all near an altar.

Brutha Ibram talks about the value of this place.

He talks about how it’s good for a person’s life.  How it’s good for my life.

         ********        

Slowly I drift out of sleep.  Realizing what I have just dreamed my eyes begin to tear. I can feel the heaviness envelop my heart.  It was as if the dream birthed something that had been buried from view. 

How long have I been oblivious, carrying this sorrow blindly, perhaps choosing to be blind? What was my dream telling me?  Is there help somewhere?  Do I need to physically go some place or is it a spiritual journey?  Do I have to go three times or have I been two times already. Is this my third and final chance. Am I spending this life eating in a restaurant somewhere? Dreams are always so ambiguous.

But this dream is clearly a message to me, a very important message.  The altar was there a lot so faith must be important.

Where’s my journal?  Dreams are like dew, they evaporate quickly as soon as you open your eyes. Let me write this down before I loose the details.

Where is my dictionary, that red velvet pillow, I want to look it up.

Velvet:  a spiritual blessing as well as what lies beneath the surface.

Red:  energy drives; sex, ambition, anger, as well as physical healing. 

Pillow:  support and hope.

I have to find this healing place physical, spiritual, wherever or whatever it is. This pain and sadness has to go.  My heart, my soul fees weary. I won’t live like this, not for one more lifetime, not for one more moment. I am changing my life but first I have to find it.  Who am I, why am I here, what do I really want?

(1) SAADI'S QUEST: Chapter 1 Red Velvet Pillow

VISION QUEST

BOOK ONE

Chapter I. RED VELVET PILLOW

I’m in a dream, wandering feeling really unhappy inside; sorrow so real can feel its weight like a chain squeezing my heart.  I’m lost.  Where is this place?  What is this place?

Brutha Ibram walks up to me. Tall and lanky, lean like an African runner, his long locs flow in the breeze over his African Caftan, rich in browns and golds.  He’s the driver of the bus, a school bus!  You have to catch it at a certain place and an exact time.  Brutha Ibram is not at all clear about where the bus will be or about what will happen when we get to this place that he calls the other side.  He tells me that he understands what I’m feeling.  He’s felt this way before, that’s why he’s come to get me, to take me to this place on the other side.

It’s not easy to catch this bus but I know its very important and that I need to go.  The people on the bus look downtrodden, forlorn.  Wow, there’s San, my best friend from college. And a dark skinned man sitting in the back in the corner.  He’s slumped over like he is drunk or something.  He looks familiar.  Is it Daddy?

The school bus has to pass through an opening that looks like a picture frame.  There is a precise moment when it must pass through the portal.  I want to go.  I can’t take this sorrow anymore.  It’s not sadness out of desperation; it’s more like a permeating lack of hope.  I have to go. I jump.

The scene completely changes and I find myself inside a hotel. I don’t see the outside; the room we’re in has no windows.  No, its not a hotel, it’s a school, an elementary school and at the same time it’s a spa, a retreat, a place to heal.  I have my own room.   There’s an altar.  I don’t chant first. I unpack, and pitter around in the room.  Then I sit and chant though I am not sure what I chant about.  The altar’s shape and color are vague but there are beautiful red velvet pillows on the floor in front of it.  I think we fly in this place.

I return to this spa, retreat, school, over and over.  Brutha Ibram is always our guide.  My life starts to heal more and more with each trip.  It is time for my next trip but for some reason I begin to doubt going.  

Maybe I don’t need to go. 

I go to a restaurant instead, a couple of blocks away from the jump site.  I’m sitting there eating my sandwich when it hits me,

“What a fool! These trips are my last chance. I have to go.  Oh gosh is it too late?

I begin to panic as I race to the jump site running with all my strength but like in a dream world, I’m moving through thick honey. The harder I run the slower I move. Everything is in slow motion.

Will I be too late? What’s wrong with me? Am I crazy?  I know I need these visits.  I’m going to miss them.  It’s an exact place. It’s an exact time.  You can’t be late! 

To be continued...

 ********************

Welcome to my story of Saadi, a young woman in our time, navigating the rough waters of living.  She’s not so different from you or me.  Maybe, as we read her journey, we will see lessons that she did not and hopefully we will cheer her on as she seeks a path amidst lovers, inner demons, family, friends, and foes... 
                      Saadi's Quest by Minerva

 "The Tales of Saadi" graphic by Paulo Canabarro (pvpcanabarro@gmail.com)