Not everyone is the Dalai Lama. I know, dumb observation, but what I mean is that there can be a dark side to spiritual authorities, be they priests, therapists, workshop facilitators, or colon cleanse coordinators. More advanced readers have already caught on that oneas spiritual life is a do-it-yourself project, though I would be happy to lend you my tools. Thatas sort of the point here, isnat it?
Sorry, I guess that was sort of rude of me to flash my tools so directly in your face. I really donat consider myself some kind of spiritual authority. If my silly words are useful in some small way to someone out there as nutty as me, then, sure, I rejoice. But as far as actually being a teacher, some kind of rabbi? Iam just not prepared to go there. Thatas what rabbi means, by the way, ateacher.a Whoa, I guess I just taught something right now! Still, I would discourage anyone from actually addressing me as arabbi,a ayogi,a amaster,a or asensei.a Because, as the following letters show, itas one thing to borrow someoneas tools, itas another to be their tool:I have a friend whoas involved in those personal-growth workshops they used to call EST and now call aThe Forum.a Now heas trying to get me to go, too. The pattern is this: Heall invite me somewhere, but then cancel those plans and promise better ones. The abetter plansa turn out to be a Forum workshop at a hotel conference room in way the hell out in the suburbs, with Safeway deli trays and lots of agreata people.
SHRINKING VIOLET.
Dear Shrinking Violet, Iave been to a few seminars, meditation retreats, and sweat lodges. Iave debated Unitarians, chanted with the Hare Krishnas, and observed silence with Quakers. The New Horizons Healing Center on Twelfth, Iave been there a few times, though they were a little pushy last time about getting me to buy their DVD. Guys, I told you Iam perfectly happy with my present level of lunar engagement. Yes, I know it aenhances erotic communion,a but that doesnat happen to be an issue for me at the moment. Oh, and the Center for Spiritual Directions south of town, Iave been there a few times. Good folks, if a little, I donat know, enthusiastic for me, with their two-thousand-member Choir of Light.
If I had to boil down everything I learned at all these places, it would go something like this: Forget that nonsense about being the captain of your soul. Youare more like the assistant manager. So whoas general manager? Kurt Vonnegut. No, heas not the general manager, but he did once say that he believed in whatever guides monarch butterflies to Mexico. Thatas good enough for me. The important thing is to be filled with a warm pleasant feeling. Like a portobello ravioli.
The other important thing is to remember that there are plenty of honest people in the personal-transformation business. And it can be perfectly OK to make a small donation to help them pay their rent. Or even buy a DVD that youall never watch. But if they demand money, say youare not allowed to pee, or serve Safeway deli trays? Get away, fast.
My therapist tells me I can sue my former employer.
VICKY VICTIM.
Dear Vicky, My employer tells me I can sue my former therapist. Iad been having a series of dreams about a network of castles set in sheer cliffs, and for months this therapist was trying to decode my dream-series castle network in terms ofa"what else?a"my relationship with my parents. But the dream turned out to be a symbol of inadequately expressed grief for my Georgina (the petit basset griffon Venden I had before Kunio), and my therapist was guilty of nothing less than speciesism. I donat know if I could have actually succeeded with a suit though. They always make you sign a bunch of papers before you start treatment. But if they didnat, and if lingering Crypto-Freudianism was the crime it should be, I think I would have a good case.
The Accidental Seekers.
A little surprised to learn how much power youave been giving to aleadersa and ateachersa? Ha, well, thatas good because surprise is our next theme. Weare going to meet some of my readers who were all surprised to learn that their problems were spiritual in nature. But, oops, thereas another surprise right now! Your cell phone is ringing.
Perhaps it will be helpful to remind you that public space is a delicately intertwined fabric. A Persian rug, if you will, oriented according to the principles of feng shui, on a floor of sustainable resources. A bottle of pinot is breathing on a Danish Modern table, tastefully muted jazz emanates from the Bose iPod speaker dock, and incense smoke gently curls from the incense thing, whena"wait, whatas that? Oh my goodness, oh dear me. Itas a smear of feces on the rug. Thatas you, my friend, destroying this gentle harmony with your cell phone.
And this isnat just another tangent, because cell phones also have spiritual implications. Think of it this way: Meditation is a heightening of the attention that can reach cosmic proportions. Cell phones are the opposite of meditation. They choke out awareness of your surroundings and lower a thick curtain of self-absorption between the world and your senses.
Does that mean you can never use your cell phone? Not at all. You just need to follow certain guidelines, the main one being, donat use it around me. I have, of course, been known to use a cell phone myself on occasion, but only when itas truly necessary. And I always fill my cell phone conversations with witticisms for everyone around me to enjoy. Itas my little contribution to the causes of lightening up and smiling.
My greatest hits include my Mork from Ork imitation and my silly French accent. At the end of the call I like to acknowledge the people Iave been entertaining. In my best Cary Grant Iall say, aMy dear, I have to confess we are not alone. Iave got a few folks here chuckling along with me.a Then Iall hold the phone to the crowd and say, aHey gang! Say hi to Marion!a Sometimes people are so sunk in the trivia of their own lives that theyare not receptive to this kind of impromptu fun. They can in fact be unaccountably hostile. Whatever it is theyare worried about thougha"and believe me, Iave got worries, tooa"would it really not be improved by a big goofy group laugh there in the library?
If only those patrons could open themselves to the charm of the unexpected! Itas the same charm that challenges our next group of letter writers, whom I call the Accidental Seekers. They learn, and hopefully weall learn together here, about the spiritual progress that can arise out of the most unlikely of problems. I donat always get follow-up mail, so Iam not sure if these folks reacted more positively than those cell-phone eavesdroppers of mine, but I live in a little place called I Think They Did land. After reading these, Iam sure youall join me there.
I left a blank check on the dashboard of my Golf. A signed blank check. (Can we please not get into why?) Then, driving merrily along, I rolled down the window before remembering the check, which vanished instantly. One week of shame and fear later, I found a rough-grained brown envelope tucked in my front screen door. Inside was the check! And a note. aWTF,a it read, adonat you know you should never leave a signed check lying around?a The note was unsigned. Now Iam having trouble reconciling my gratitude with my irritation.
JANGLED JENNY.
Dear Jenny, Signed check, unsigned note. Iam digging the symmetry here. Let me ask you, have you heard of Tough Love Yoga? It can surprise uninitiated practitioners when they ask a question and the instructor shouts, aWho the fuck do you think I am? Stop looking for a guru! Figure it out yourself!a But they soon see thereas a mischievous compassion at work, like a Zen masteras staff on the top of your skull. The journey of your check back into your life was likewise backed by a harsh wind, but its deck may be piled with a treasure of insight. Open the treasure chest by opening yourself to the power of transformation. I believe you can do this. Thatas why Iave taken the liberty of signing you up for a free consultation with my friends at eco-organizer.net.
This is all by way of saying that the very thing you asked me not to discussa"why you had a blank check on your dashboard in the first placea"is exactly the dark, disheveled cellar into which you must venture. I believe you can do it. Why am I so sure? Well, my mom used to read Little Lulu comics to me at bedtime. There was one where Lulu tells a story about a little girl who was raised by birds. One morning the little girl wakes up alone in the nest, so she starts knocking on doors in search of the birds. One of the doors is answered by a ghost. Only the little girl doesnat know what a ghost is, and so sheas not scared at all. aHave you seen my parents?a she asks. aTheyare birds, theyare about this high.a The ghost goes running off to see the headmaster. Because it turns out this place is a school for ghosts. Even the headmaster canat scare the little girl though.
The birds never taught the little girl fear. You, too, were in some way raised by birds, Jenny. Exactly how is something else youall need to work out on your own. To help you with that, hereas a phrase that will fit on your refrigerator whiteboard: Journey to the nest, enter the cellar.
Jottings from my Moleskine Intelligence filtered through the heart is pretty neat.
Did I read that somewhere or make it up? Does it matter? Ha! Free-floating wisdom!
Iam at Safeway. Me and this other guy have gotten into two different lines at the same time. That means that, after sizing up the length of the lines, the groceries of the other customers, and the cashiers, wead come to two different conclusions about which one would be fastest. Now it was on, a contest of his line selection skills versus mine. Our carts were neck and neck until a woman ahead of him started arguing with the cashiera"just as I knew she woulda"about the advertised sale price of her three dozen cans of low-magnesium Friskies. Just then I got called over by a cashier whoad opened up another lane. So, yeah, I got out of the store before the other guy, but I feel cheated of a more clear-cut victory. Am I being petty?
LINER NATE.
Dear Nate, Not at all. Having honed the skill of cashier selection over the course of long personal experience, you feel understandably frustrated about not being able to fully express these skills. In suddenly resolving the story in your favor, the deus ex machina of a new cashier deprived you of the victory that would have felt more genuine for having come through your own powers of discernment.
Oh, and letas all take this opportunity to remind ourselves to beware of the insidious ageism that may creep into the cashier selection process. Feel free to steer clear of coupon-wielding seniors in line ahead of you, just donat resort to negative feelings about their inability to complete a single transaction that doesnat involve calling the assistant manager over for a debate about the fine print in the weekly special.
While weare being ware of that, Nate, your job is to beware of this: the corrosive power of regret in your life. Put the cashier who might have been out of your mind and be grateful for the cashier who is.
Jottings from my Moleskine I open a Word document. I check the word count. I close the Word document. A little dialogue box asks if I want to save my changes. What changes? Have I altered the object simply by measuring it? Heisenberg haunts Redmond? What other questions can I ask myself about this?
Iam in my neighboras apartment to feed his dog while heas on vacation. He left insanely detailed instructions, but my question is about the anotes to myselfa he has taped to his refrigerator. Would it be unethical for me to copy them down? Theyare pretty funny and I want to make use of them in my writing.
AUTHOR ARTHUR.
Dear Arthur, Are you telling me thereas something funny about agetting in touch with my body wisdoma and afocusing on my gifts for the worlda? I guess you should be congratulated since you apparently never need to be reminded to aSimply bea or aFind your anowa now.a Some of us, however, need to reach for a helping hand to get through the day, and the nearest hand is often our own. Perhaps your own method of feeling better is to scoff at others. Iam not going to stand here and tell you thatas not a valid approach. Poking at the soft underbelly of your neighboras guilelessly exposed inner life, however, does seem like a betrayal. On the other hand, the proverb aNever trust a writera should also be considered in this case.
At my office, a certain individual likes to print articles from the Web that he thinks are ironic/funny/newsworthy and put them up on the office refrigerator for all to enjoy. Problem is, his sources of online content are not compatible with mine. My strategy has been to remove the articles anonymously after enough time has passed that everyone in the office has seen them, but Iad rather not see them at all. What should I do?
FROSTY THE STAKEHOLDER.
Dear Frosty, Something Iave contemplated while gazing at the bodhisattva figure in the stairwell of my town house may be of use to you here. While we in the West are blinded by the illusion of permanence, the East teaches that there are no objects, only events. What we think of as a athinga is in a continual process of arising, abiding, and disintegrating. This is doubly true of a refrigerator, for itas both an event and a conduit for information about other events.
You can also conceive of the refrigerator as an island radio station. Itas broadcasting to the little isolated community made up of you and your co-workers, as well as the odd salesperson and copy repair guy who may drift through like foreign sailors. As with any medium of information, whether itas on an island or any other geographical body, the refrigerator must adhere to certain basic guidelines.
Iam not suggesting that anyone try to curtail free speech as practiced on the surface of appliances. On the contrary, my point is that free speech should be superchargeda"with the power of respect. For we can only truly speak freely when we respect each other. Thatas just Karma 101. Your co-worker clearly doesnat respect your sensitivity to this truth. Respect can only be achieved by consensus. Consensus is achieved by process. Process is achieved by committee. So form a committee, make a list of Web sites that are acceptable as sources of refrigerator content, compose yourselves into a mob, walk over to his cube, and present your list to your co-worker. That, too, will be an event.
I saw a car with both a aCo-exista bumper sticker and a Darwin fish eating a Jesus fish. Isnat that a contradiction?
AUNT LOUISE.
Dear Louise, The Darwin fish could possibly be giving the Jesus fish a friendly little hug with its jaws. aOh, Jesus fish!a the Darwin fish could be saying. aCome here and let me affectionately gnaw on your scaly little head while I explain how your life is based on lies.a How should I greet someone whoas wearing earbuds?
SOCIABLE SALLY.
Dear Sally, First, frown and hug yourself tight to represent to the earbud user their own unhealthy electronic cocooning. Second, jump up and stretch out your arms and legs like a joy-crazed starfish greeting the dawn. This will remind the user of the big, w-i-d-e, wonderful world theyare missing out on. Then toss your scarf over your shoulder, blow a kiss, and be on your way.
Why does everyone want to sit in a booth?
WAITRESS JUANITA.
Dear Juanita, Eating at a restaurant is special to the extent that itas fancier than eating at your own house. And just as restaurant food is fancier than the food you cook, a booth is fancier than your dining table. Itas like a misting of banana oil for your butt.
The preposition a booth takes points to the other reason itas special. You canat sit or lie aina anything but a booth. There are hammocks, I guess. We had one of those when I was a kid. I only remember lying in it once, back in the summer when we first got it, staring at tree branches against the sky. Itas hard to get in those things. Theyare tippy. You have to sort of trust and get in all at once. Iam pretty sure thereas a lesson in there. After that first summer, our hammock was always wet and full of leaves. Then one day it was gone. Not sure about the lesson there.
Itas easy to get into a booth though. Its soft yet firm receptivity offers just the right amount of friction as you slide in. Once youare in, you can say youare aensconced.a Which makes it sound like this is something the booth is doing to you. Iave always been sort of thrilled by the idea of the booth taking control and ensconcing me. Sometimes itas still warm from its last occupant. I find that sort of unsettling. But the booth is soon filled with a warmth thatas all mine.
Maybe in the course of reading those, you started to get a warm feeling yourself when realized that you, too, are among the ranks of the Accidental Seekers. That we all are. How quickly you catch on! I think weare ready to take this theme to the proverbial next level.
The Others Ether.
Someone just asked you for directions. You are now in an encounter that seems routine but is packed with spiritual growth potential for all parties. Indeed, itas nothing less than an opportunity to restore peopleas faith in humanity. And to give yourself a rosy glow of satisfaction. So whatever you do, donat make it simple.
Sure, you could point and tell them where to turn, and that may even be what they think they want. Instead, be as detailed as possible, without limiting yourself to some schematic, closed-minded idea about whatas arelevant.a Go over the directions twice, the second time illustrating each step with elaborate hand motions. Whip out your Moleskine and draw a map with sketches of major landmarks and arrows pointing out the whimsical details along the route. If you know a foreign language, offer to explain everything again in that language. Walk part of the way with them, to make sure theyave really got it. While youare walking, tell them funny stories about the history of the neighborhood. This is your moment to shine! Send them away with the feeling that they just won the lottery of random kindness. Let me phrase that in a slightly more urgent way: If you send them away with anything less than this feeling, are you really doing your best to lead a life of intentionality?
Jottings from my Moleskine Found myself missing wrong numbers. Everyone on speed dial now. That brief, random connection with another soula"now a thing of the past. Miss especially delivering my joke: aNo, heas not here. Try calling his number.a Sorry! I was starting to get a little preachy there. I guess Iam still fired up from the afternoon I spent recently with a German family in matching biker jackets who were trying to find Pike Place Market.
I bring this up because at this point Iam going to rap at you a little about the mysterious medium through which we connect to others: the Others Ether. As weall see in these letters, optimizing your connections through this ether can make for some pretty magical moments.
I just love going to yard sales. But sometimes Iall stop by a sale and immediately realize thereas nothing but a stained old aWorldas Best Dada mug, a dusty box of Auto World magazines, and Volume Two of Billy Joelas Greatest Hits. How soon can I leave without being rude?
SMART SHOPPING SUZY.
Dear Suzy, There are three basic kinds of yard sales. Thereas the kind held by people whoare moving and have lots of stuff priced to move. One step down is the kind held by people who are cleaning out their attic. You might find something good, but itas pretty hit-and-miss. Then there are the sales put on by the bored and the lonely. They donat have anything anyone would want to buy, but they need something to do. More than your money, they just want a little bit of your time. If you so much as glance at that stained old Playskool choo-choo, theyall launch into an account of their son who played with it back in the seventies, and how he lives in Denver now and has kids of his own and doesnat visit very often.
If you want to escape, you can use the cover of someone elseas arrival. Or you can pretend that youave got a cell-phone call and back away while smiling apologetically. That old guy in the lawn chair will be fine even if you canat spare a few minutes for a neighborly chat about the weather. Even if most of his friends have died and heas got no plans for the rest of the day. But maybe itas more important for you to get to the post office before it closes. Your call.
Jottings from my Moleskine How much eye contact is appropriate? Donat ask! Remember the millipede!
Youare old enough, you must remember when we used to sit in peopleas living rooms and watch their slide shows. God, what a bore. Now we get links to everyoneas online photos instead. Who has time to look at all that stuff?
MOOSEWOOD COOKBOOK.
Dear Moosewood Cookbook, Letas take a little stroll through the backyard of your question. Oh look, what a coinkydink! There seems to be a slide show going on inside the house right now! You can tell from the way the curtains light up with a soft glow of shifting whites, blues, and tans. Letas step softly so as to not disturb the people inside. Now weare in the garden, where we find, folded up in a neat little square and stuffed into the knot of a pear tree, the answer to your question.
What was your question again? aHow can I blow off friends?aa"was that it? Ha, sorry, just giving you a friendly little poke in the ribs there, Moosewood Cookbook. I know that wasnat how you phrased it. But did you notice that hushed sense of calm just now, while we were taking our imaginary little walk? And how good it felt, especially in contrast to the frazzled tone you started with? Now, here in the garden, in the cool of the twilight, letas unfold that paper. It says . . . Well, I could tell you what it says, but I think you already know.
Seriously, though, if someone sends you one of those links, all you have to do is comment on just one of the pictures. Something like, aYouare making me envious with that one of you guys in Los Cabos! Good times!a Choose a picture near the end so it appears as though you looked at all of them.
OK, I know that if I spend any time whatsoever complaining about Facebook it means I should get a life, but what is it about people who must narrate the most trivial events of their life? They post status updates like aAbout to have a cup of tea!a and then everyone is supposed to click aLikea and comment aGirl, Iam so glad youare taking some time for yourself!a TRIVIALLY PURSUED.
Dear Pursued, Hooray for me! Itas such a simple sentiment, and yet such an important one for maintaining oneas self-esteem. I grant you that some people seem to lead this little cheer for themselves whenever they eat blueberries, go for a bike ride, or listen to the Shins (aRediscovering their second albuma). But is it so wrong to bask in the warm rays of self-validation? And would it really be so hard for you to click aLikea? If you really think so, maybe itas time for you to take off that grumpy adult mask of yours and remember how you felt the first time you made a poo poo in the toilet by yourself.
I recently attended a play, and the performance was mediocre at best. During the intermission, audience members who were sitting far enough away from the stage that the performers couldnat plainly see them quietly gathered up their belongings and did not come back. But at the end of the play, those of us who remained rose for the inevitable standing ovation. How bad does a performance have to be these days before the audience withholds a standing ovation?
UPRIGHT RELUCTANTITE.
Dear Upright, You sound a little frustrated. But hereas something you might consider: Performers make themselves incredibly vulnerable when they appear onstage, toiling at their craft for your entertainment. While you sit on your rear end, you big lazybones! Joshing aside, please remember that these performersa sense of self-worth is in your hands. And they are doing their best. Did you stop to think that they are doing their best? Those amediocrea performers simply canat do any better. How do you think that feels?
But hey, maybe youare right. Maybe when a performance falls short of perfection, we should stay seated. In fact, why stop there? Do a little research on the performers before you go. Then you can shout out taunts tailored to their personal history and ethnic background. aNice performance, Jewish Guy!a you can shout. aMuch like when you prematurely ejaculated into your girlfriend last night!a Sure, that might not make him feel very good, but it would make you feel good. And apparently thatas the most important thing here. Or is it???
My laid-off friend has been spending her time knitting scarves for everyone she knows. But theyare pretty bad scarves. Do we have to wear them?
I FEEL SILLY ABOUT MY NECK.
Dear Silly About My Neck, Iave managed to keep my job so far, thank Shiva, but I know a lot of people who havenat. So far these people have managed to keep their spirits up pretty well. Along with a blow-softening severance package, there seems to be a certain giddiness that helps ease the shock of termination, an element of aHaha, imagine me getting laid off!a I endorse this giddiness, but worry that it may be harder to maintain the proper spirit of levity as weeks of idleness pile up. Everyone with a laid-off friend should do as much as possible to help that friend stay loose and positive. Because anxiety wonat help anything. What this means for you, Silly, is that you do indeed have to wear that lumpy green and orange scarf. Because itas liable to get a lot colder before it warms up.
OK, time to die!
Not really. At least, not yet. But this is something that must be contemplated in the course of any spiritual journey. My mom used to tell me death is part of life, and to reject it is to reject life. I canat improve on that. But a few slightly more specific issues have come up for my readers:My friend, who is from a tropical island country, sometimes asks her dead brother to help her win the lottery. aI bring you flowers,a she says. aGive me the numbers.a Comments?
A LOTTO MADNESS.
Dear Lotto, I really hate to judge someone elseas spirituality, but thatas pretty materialistic, donat you think? And all too typical of the crass side of Christianity. Whatever happened to the camel and the eye of the needle? But wait, where did you say your friendas from? Is it a foreign country with a vibrant culture? It may not be possible to make a comment here. Vibrancy equals clemency.
Iam at the funeral reception of a friend. As a way to feel his presence, weare listening to his iPod on shuffle. So far, so tender. But then this horrendous, squawking free-jazz thing comes on. A glance at the little progress bar tells me itas forty-five minutes long. Annoying, sure, but it was also giving a false impression of my friend as having pretentious taste in music. I knew Josh as well as anyone, and I can tell you that no matter how adventurous his downloading habits, he would have been the first to make fun of himself for playing this bad rehash of Ascension. So I hit forward on the iPod and the next song was aBlackbirda by the Beatles. Sad, beautiful, and everyone likes it. In other words, perfect for the occasion. So I should have been a hero, right? Why did everyone look at me like that?
GRIEVING GREGORY.
Dear Gregory, Small world! I was there, too. I knew Josh because I was a customer of his when he was waiting tables at that breakfast place on top of Queen Anne. I guess I was on his e-mail lista"maybe from the time he invited me to a show of his drawings?a"because I got the notice his girlfriend sent out after the accident.
The reaction to what you did at the funeral was indeed hostile. The collective judgment was that you were violating the spirit of Josh himself, as represented by his iPodas shuffle function. What you needed was a clearer communication strategy. A sheepish smile and the explanation that ahe told me he hated thisa would have done the trick. Your decision to instead celebrate your heroism with a series of fist pumps and a strutting rooster dance was what turned the crowd against you.
Have you ever ascattereda someoneas ashes? The word gives you an image of the ashes being spontaneously taken up by the wind to rejoin nature in a mystical twinkle. The first time I had to deal with human ashes, I discovered theyare heavier than expected, and that you ascattera them straight down into an inert pile. Then you stand around awkwardly, exchange hugs with friends, and walk away. Now Iave got a second set of ashes and want to do a better job. How should I proceed?
SCATTER BRAINED SCOTTY.
Dear Scotty, Hmm . . . Thatas a toughie! My first thought is of the sand bluffs of Seattleas Discovery Park. I canat think of a better place to rejoin nature, no matter how imperfectly. And itas often windy enough that you might actually achieve the picturesque effect you describe. Even if you donat see an actual mystical twinkle.
Still, you may be on to something there with your objection to the word ascattering.a It raises expectations, doesnat it? And who needs that when someone close to you has just died? Thatas why you should remember that awkward hugs may be the best anyone can muster. And thatas OK. You might also consider not using all the ashes in the scattering. Itas easier to be ceremonious with a handful than the whole box. Giving yourself a break would also be a good idea about now.
My boyfriend, whoas in his late thirties, has recently developed a keen interest in local history. Is this a sign of impending geezerhood?
JOSEPHINE THE SINGER.
Dear Josephine, Often occurring in males, but by no means restricted to them, interest in local history is indeed a sign of aging. The onset of this condition, which can occur anywhere between the ages of thirty-five and fifty-five, is caused by the human mind seeking to adjust to its own mortality. As it senses its limits, the mind naturally seeks out the larger patterns itas part of, and which will continue after itas gone.
You see, Josephine, no one can cope with infinity all at once. Itas better to start with the story of the cityas first professional fire department and expand into gradually larger time frames. One can eventually develop a vision of personal oblivion as peaceful as the primeval forest that once grew here.
Gardens in my neighborhood are dominated by perennialsa"subtle, elegant, woodsy plants that bloom, for the most part, once a season. Theyare great, and they seem so in tune with the understated Northwest ethos. But sometimes when I go to garden stores, Iam tempted by the brighter, flashier annuals that last all season long. Will I seem like a gaudy outsider if I plant them?
BETTY aBUMBLEa BEE Dear Betty, Iam on record as being against anyone faking cancer, except perhaps in certain romantic role-playing situations. So please refrain from this, even if it seems like the obvious solution. It will, however, be OK for you to subtly intimate to your perenniaphile neighbors that youare not sure how much time youave got left in this world. Because you donat! No one does. aThe light is precious while it lasts,a you can say while gazing at the evening sky, or aAh, sweet thief of time! How consistently dost thou roll on!a When they learn to approach you and your mysterious condition with a little more respect, then you can let your neighbors in on the joke: They, too, could die anytime! And the whole idea of a perennial that lasts indefinitely is fundamentally flawed! This will help them appreciate petunias, no matter how fleeting, and eventually realize that, in a sense, weare all annuals.