Stalking Vol 2 The Bridge of Reason HTML version

loyalty. That you think so highly of yourself that your presence was required at his father’s
funeral is incredible, and your inconsideration monumental."
"In-con-sid-er-ation?" I sputtered.
"You were self- importantly spending his money under the guise of practicing generosity
days before you placed a further financial burden on him, at a time when he had burdens enough.
Is he not faced with keeping you in money again, probably at the expense of getting away in his
time of need?"
My stomach fell to my knees, and I said I had to leave. The day was already too full for me.
"I’ll see you when you’re ready."
I had no idea how I was going to face Ed when I got home. I felt that I must, but as neither
he nor I ever apologized for our lives to anyone, let alone to each other, I had no idea where to
begin. Then I realized he didn’t see things the way Bonnie had explained them. It took me two
years to deliver my apology.
Chapter 21
Nantucket Sleigh Ride
Two days later, Bonnie could still see the accumulative self-pity and sadness within me, but
she did not interfere with me grieving over multiple circumstances. I was attentive, did not
interject my version of humor, and for lack of a better word was generally uninspired in my
relatively uncluttered thinking. I also noticed, but did not comment on, her subdued demeanor.
After hours of observing my sterile mood through her own, over late afternoon coffee
Nolan’s Bonnie said, "Your Assemblage Point is becoming accustomed to a new position. We
need to push it, now that it’s on the move."
"Go ahead," I said, expecting to be smacked by a comment about fixing my Assemblage
Point in wallowing.
"Not here," she said.
We drove to her house in a delicate silence: Bonnie looked like she was ‘working" as a
welcome calm came over me.
Without consciously focusing in this way, her lessons about my personal experiences and
the beliefs and behaviors they gave rise to began lining up to mankind’s four core personalities,
and three basic flawed habits. Her "essence" lessons on entitlement, generosity, greed, cruelty,
and bigotry, found hovering spots from which skeletal strings dangled to form structures, like
chemical formulae. I recognized these as elements of mankind’s misery, but their connectivity—
or bonding stimuli—was not apparent.
As we pulled into her driveway, these complex patterns of behavior faded into the scents
and sounds of summer’s song by the ocean, and I understood as an observation that my grief and
self-pity had also been put in their place. I felt empty—not as a heavy loss, but lighter—in
preparation for filling the space newly available.
Bonnie had often said, "Talking ruins it," when I was having unusual experiences, so I
remained silent as we entered the house, poured two glasses of lemonade, and settled in the
living room. She stretched out on the couch, and I sank into the overstuffed chair with that f ’n
green pillow behind my back.
Taking a small sip, around the rim of her glass Bonnie said, "I’ve often told you not to be
concerned, because things will fall into place when it’s time. Now is that time… define fear."
As I had hoped, the mild light- headedness that sometimes accompanied heightened
awareness was again in play, and trusting it allowed me to answer without hesitation.