I draft this note while reminiscing about the times we spent together. You were lovely. I came to know my way intimately around you. The boundaries surrounding my life were crystal clear when you were part of it. Why did you have to go?
Remember when we first met? It was the early sixties. A time of immense change. You made a resounding impression on me as well as others. You were my mentor affecting every aspect of my life. You were considerate and had sound judgment. A resilient teacher, you held me accountable for my actions. You watched me weep when things didn’t work out, never enabling. Our relationship started around the time of those shiny white go-go boots I wanted so badly. You had me resign myself to the fact that they weren’t necessary. The trends continued with purple hot pants and banana yellow bell bottoms. That’s when we started to get to know each other. I was young, these things were frivolous, and you were wise leveraging those formative experiences as life lessons for my higher learning.
You were on me daily like a fat kid on a smartie. The manners and rules in which you lived by were democratic and civil, and you instilled them in me. They were challenging at times, but once I came through an event, you quietly assured me my choices were correct no matter how hard or painful it might have been. By acknowledging and feeling the accomplishment, I learned how to carry the weight of responsibility and ownership void of resentment and without losing my compassion. In fact, I believe that to be the essence of your being. You were far more empathetic than you ever let on, but only those who knew you saw that. More often then not, people misunderstood that about you. It wasn’t until years later, upon reflection, I discovered how deep that flowed within you.
Your pedestrian way of appearing was deceiving to others. They wanted sexy, whereas you were commonplace. There were no games when it came to dealing with you. Consequently, you became invisible and often ignored. Your sense of respect and all aspects of your being helped me better define all aspects of myself. But there were times you were downright challenging to be around. You knew so much and I so little.
I miss the fact that you’re not very romantic and not one for surprises; overall you’re somewhat average. I can be candid with you about such things and have no fear of hurting your feelings because you’re impenetrable around these types of comments. You taught me to be the same. I love that about you. You don’t personalize anything. No matter what is said, you don’t flinch. No emotional triggers lay within you. You taught me to view them as distractions and to release them as they serve no other purpose but to distance oneself from the facts and bring an unnecessary narrative where it doesn’t belong.
I came to love and appreciate you as others began to ignore you, but I wasn’t one of them. You bathed me in insights and allowed me to acquire so many threads of wisdom that I was able to weave my very own tapestry of life. One that I dedicated to you.
When I look back, it seemed so unceremonious after all those years together that you would leave. I was confused when you departed. There was no trace of you anywhere. Your abandonment was painful. What was at one time your presence was now a transparent veil fading into the atmosphere. I looked all over for you, but you were nowhere I called others to see if they had seen you and went to places that we had both been, hoping to locate you there. But to no avail. Things no longer made sense to me once you were gone. There were those pretending to be you, but your load is not one that others are anxious to carry.
You showed me what my potential was and how to stay away from coercion. You lovingly and continuously educated me. In your absence, I began to be surrounded by others who had never made your acquaintance, and it seemed your desertion became more irrelevant, but not to me. It just delineated the polarity. As a teacher, your lessons were worldly, not severe. You abhorred fear and never basked in euphoria. I don’t know how you remained so neutral, but you did. Temperance was yet another defining aspect you lovingly bestowed upon me.
To this day I have not met anyone remotely like you. You taught us all to seek balance when it came to the pendulum of life. Something I only sometimes hear but no longer from you. We use to practice gratitude daily. Do you remember? You insisted upon it. It was how we reflected on our lessons learned and acquired the currency of that learning. What an inspiration you were.
Interestingly enough you departed when the digital age arrived. I think you grew weary and needed distance from the rest of us, but maybe, for the first time in your existence, you miscalculated how much this new culture desired your influence.
I’ve since married, had kids, and watched them grow. Through all of that, I had remnants of what you taught me and passed those on to my family. I am on the back nine of my life, and I wish you were beside me. You had so many friends who met you at the same time that we met. I was proud to call you a friend, but I would be lying if I didn’t share the deep love I had for you. Everything around me needs some of you. I no longer wear the colours of my youth. Instead, I find myself attired in black. Perhaps it’s mourning your absence. I feel the axis of the earth somehow unhinged with insanity gaining the upper hand. Your vacancy is noticed at every level of life and in every institution. It is notably void from politics. Your nemesis Ego has stepped in to take the space you once occupied, and the outcome has been a disaster. You left an indomitable mark, and along the way someone erased it.
I’ve had to reconcile an existence of living somewhat out of harmony since you left which is contradictory to what you taught me. You were consistently dispensing practical and reliable advice. To be off-kilter and pretend to bring some defined direction to something so bent out of shape is an illusion incongruent to your brilliant teachings. The landscape has become contrary to your lessons. So much has been impacted by your profound absence. I don’t know who declared war on you, but you could have fought it, and you would have won. But you didn’t. There are those that still protect your teachings, but few hold your integrity and welcome your presence. Ego has taken over and is shamelessly assuming an array of hats as it stuffs itself with jagged and eccentric rhetoric. Those that are not familiar with you don’t even know that what they are clamouring for is you.
I miss you Common Sense. Will you please come home?
Ah yes, at first I thought you were speaking of my Mother and I wondered how you could have known her. But yes there is something sorely missing but it does seem that many don’t want it to return.
Long ago I was married and there were always those little things that can cause strife like the glassware should be washed first when you only have one sink. The husband would ask me why, and I would say, “…it’s just common sense…”. He would reply, in a very exasperated voice, “How can it be common sense if I know nothing about it?”