Marrying chaos and solitude

Jan. 15, 2004

Dear Julie,

DC dreamed this week that you and Lynn had gotten married, and that she was in charge of making the table decorations. That was the dream, or all she relayed to me. I think she has decided the two of you belong together.

A wedding ring was DC's Christmas gift from me. She lost hers earlier in the year, possibly in a rest stop bathroom somewhere in Kentucky. It's miraculous she kept it 10 years as much as she took it off and put it back on during the day. She must wear Latex gloves in her job, so it's easier not to wear rings.

DC just doesn't feel comfortable wearing jewelry. I always wondered if it was marriage she still was trying to get comfortable with.

The new wedding ring includes a little don't-lose-me reminder, an emerald, DC's favorite gem. Into our 11th year of marriage, the edges on each other we used to bump into are smoothing, or at least we are learning that these, too, are to be embraced.

I know the kitchen table will be heaped with papers, boxes, trinkets and knickknacks by the time our house cleaner returns every two weeks. At first we made a deal that DC would not build mountains on the kitchen table if I would refrain from leaving dishes in the bedroom and the living room. Neither of us has kept the bargain.

Now I'm asking for one little corner of the table as a haven where I can spread out the newspaper and drink a cup of coffee in the morning.

My Christmas gift from DC, a well-kept surprise, was the ancient Chinese screen I admired in your store when we visited you in California last October. It is beautiful and will allow me to create a sanctuary almost anywhere in the house.

DC's talent for chaos and my yen for solitude have been the biggest edges we've encountered, I think. We are finding we have more and more and more to learn about ourselves from each other.

My new job requires the mastery of chaos. I have not taken an official timing but estimate someone either asks me a question or imparts some new information to me at least every three minutes. Sometimes there's a line at my door, like at the DMV.

As far as I can tell, my job is to listen well, respond to the best of my ability and then try to make sense of it all. It tests my sense of balance.

In yoga, the basic pose called Mountain requires you only to stand upright but strong and balanced, as if you were rooted in the Earth. In rain and snow and wind and darkness, a mountain does not waver.

Years ago when I was having difficulty with differences between DC and me, you sent me a card that read: "Out of chaos comes the dance of balance."

DC put a frame around the card. She frames that truth for me every day.

Love, Sam

Sam Blackwell is managing editor for the Southeast Missourian.