Perfectly Logical, Clearly Insane
Autumn was soon upon them, with the landscape bravely and boldly performing its spectacular grande finale. She remembered one of the plants from her studies of the area, Russian thistle: When the plants die in autumn, they break away from the roots and tumble free in the wind, scattering seeds as they go, often for many miles. Jesse felt the familiar nudges of change prodding her as she watched nature change, and Julia remain the same, and soon convinced herself through her own counsel that she would finish out the season and be done with this preposterous endeavor. She thought of the adage, 'Tis a fool who has himself for a counselor,' but didn't give it much consideration. It was crazy to think she could work side by side with Julia and run a business, much less spend a lonely, desolate winter together without the distraction of the business.
Perhaps she'd go back to LA, to her friends and a real job. Julia could easily handle this place without her. Both life and the inn, Jesse pondered. The idea of leaving Oregon brought a familiar yet more deflated version of sadness mixed with excitement. She was tired of leaving. Tired of saying good-bye. Certainly tired of packing and unpacking. She could do anything she wanted, and the hardest question in the world for her now lay right before her feet.
What do I want?
She hated this question and as a result made sure her life was always complicated, distracted and just fulfilling enough to keep this line of investigating at bay. She had a lot of experience playing hide and seek...with herself. She didn't feel like the same little lost girl she once did, but still felt pathless and purposeless. Jesse's discontent drove her for the next several weeks, and her confusion turned into depression. Jesse could not see how there was a place for her here, but it did occur to her that she convinced herself of that frequently in life.
By the end of the season, even Julia was ready to get rid of her for a couple of months, and thought a break would do them both good. Julia could get what Jesse had last spring: time to bond to this place in her own way. But she'll never know it like I do, Jesse thought possessively. She thanked God for the renewed interest in life, and ignored the nagging voice reminding her that the universe always says yes, even to our poor choices. Nothing stops us from our ability to miscreate. Our thoughts take us one of two places: hell or heaven. That's it.
No one can stop us from going to hell, or force us to see the signs posted along the way (and thankfully, we don't really have the power to send anyone there ourselves), nor can we block the path of a brother or sister on their way. The brochure neglects to inform us that we must pass through hell before getting to heaven, however, and some of us simply forget to keep going, futilely demanding to live there, haphazardly ever after. Jesse righteously insisted this is what Julia was doing, all the while ignoring that she endeavored to do the same. Jesse accepted the truth that God could do no more for her than he could do through her, and she also admitted to herself that she was standing with her foot on the hose, screaming at God to let the water flow. It was like being in a house wired for electricity, lamps plugged in, but not switched on and walking into the rooms, yelling at the darkness. Another myth of mysticism: arguing with reality doesn't cease; our cases simply possess more spiritual savvy.
Blocked by her own limited thinking, and peering so closely into the passing details of a constantly changing reality, all she could see was the fly poop in the pepper. Loving what is was the last thing on her mind. Jesse pursued her plans to leave, under the guise of traveling, and weather permitting could be gone through November, but since she had no agenda her timetable was virtually unlimited. Perhaps through her wanderings, life would direct her to the place that was to be her new home. It was just what she needed, she was sure of this.
The morning of her departure came quicker than Jesse expected, and her cup of mixed emotions truly runneth over. Kali sat atop her overnight bag, the only thing left to pack, and somehow seeing Kali watch her packing for the umpteenth time made her doubt herself. She began to cry.
"Someday, I'll learn how to stay. God, I'm going to miss this place. I thought this was where I belonged." This made her cry harder. After a brief storm, the emotions had been purged and she felt a bit lighter. She stroked Kali's head one last time, and looked around this haven that was her sanctuary. She recalled the night it had come alive and nurtured her, and silently willed it to speak to her now. Nothing. Only her own clamoring voice. She went downstairs to say good-bye to Julia.
Before finding her, Jesse went into the great room. This is the room I will miss the most, she realized for the first time. This is the room where love thrives. It was where the angel pin had been left, knowing it would soon be found. This is the couch where guests invite one another to join them in their discussions about challenging children, endless mortgages, good food and bad politicians. Jesse acknowledged humbly, after all her lamenting about inane encounters and the absence of inspiring conversations, that we are not in a position to question the form of love. This is the room Jesse has dreamed of living in for longer than she could remember, only she didn't know it until just that moment and her eyes filled again. She loved being surrounded by people as they idly chatted, devoured her cooking and filled with love these walls that called them to sit and stay a while. She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath and said good-bye.
The sisters walked arm and arm out to the car, with Julia quizzing Jesse on her provisions and poking her head into the car to inspect the organization.
"What, no books? I can't imagine you spending one day of your life without your precious companions." Julia said more harshly than she intended. The words stabbed Jesse in the heart, then Julia twisted the knife, "I have watched you your whole life refine the art of leaving and frankly, I don't know whether we can do this together, Jesse. But aren't you getting tired? Aren't you the least bit curious what it's like to stay?" Jesse could take no more, and with a final shake of her head, hugged her sister and left, without noticing how Julia had echoed words that Jesse assumed had fallen on deaf ears.
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