At nine, I was at a chair massage gig for a local nonprofit, in a room with 15 mamas whose language I didn’t speak, learning to communicate with them through my hands. It was beautiful to feel their history in their muscles, to feel their differences and similarities, and how many of them (as I do) guard their core selves with steel-muscle barriers against the outside world. I’m learning to meet them where they are, instead of trying to push my way through – to work slowly, with great care and love, as if this woman whose body I’m touching is a dear sister. A few times, I actually felt shoulders let go, just a little bit. I love my new job.
At eleven, as I was on my way home, I was led off my path by some unknown force outside myself, drawn away from IH35 and down 51st to Duval, steered by a strange invisible hand to the left, and then again to the right, and told by an unheard voice to park outside Freshplus grocery. I was led out of the car by forces greater than myself, straight to a big pen with a bunch of shelter dogs up for adoption. The unheard voice told me to pet puppies. And so I did. I petted nasty, dirty, love-starved street dogs that had been at the bottom of the pile, the top of the kill list in the shelter before they were rescued. After about an hour and nearly adopting a little white female, the Godvoice told me I probably shouldn’t, given that I can hardly feed the family I already own.
At one, I was at the Dirt and Bugs Preschool with Rukan, Rocky and Sunny, my valentines. At one-thirty, I was with my family and some of Rocky’s school friends (including the unbelievably adorable triplets) at the canoe rental on Barton Creek, eating a veggie burger. We watched the girls splash and play in the water, squealing with delight. We watched the mean-looking swans to make sure they didn’t attack Sunny. I watched Rukan with great, deep love in my heart, neck-deep in that cold, cold water with a gaggle of curly-haired mix-race preschoolers hanging all over her like giggling lamprey eels.
At four I was in my home. Rocky took a bath and Rukan and I prepared dinner. We three sat down to salad and bean tacos, and exchanged cards and agave-sweetened chocolate (did I mention how much I love my wife?). Rocky went to bed to Disney’s Pocahontas TM on tape, surrounded by stuffed animals. Omid-Joon stopped by briefly. Now all Ru and I need is for Monk to show up.
Happy Love Day.