from the archives: an email to an old lover

So… Going through old emails is always a mistake. So is moving – digging up the past, so that it can be looked at with a wiser, more objective eye.

Guh: there’s no better way to make your choices seem more immature, more dumb. I often find myself reminding myself to be more compassionate to my younger self. I’m all old and wise now because she made all the mistakes she did.

She never should have had sex with that guy.

But since she did, I’m all wise. (Huzzah, introspection!)

I’m not convinced that it’s healthy to bifurcate this way, but when it comes to my internal community, all of the younger selves of me are there – just there, waiting to be loved and accepted and made whole. So loving them is my task.

Here’s the unedited (e.g. typos preserved) email from January 1, 2005:  merton smiling


my dad forwarded this prayer to me, so I’m passing it along without
the threats of sending it to seven people…

I miss you already.

my flight was terrible; there were about three screaming babies,
strategically located next to and behind me…. (okay – the first leg
wasn’t terrible at all, but I flew after working a;; day, and I was
really tired. the second leg was with the screaming babies, and my
nose wouldn’t stop running… I did manage to fall asleep for about
an hour, though. I asked the gal next to me did I snore, and she said
no, so that’s good news.)

my cold has gotten worse, and by the time I got home to my parent’s
house, it was 2am NY time, and I’d been awake for 21 hours. so I had
a breathing treatment (yes, my breathing was that bad) took an epsom
salt bath and went to bed. so I’m having another breathing treatment,
had wo cups of dad’s weak coffee, and I’m starting, just barely
getting flickers, of feeling like a human being again.

what else? today, wer’e driving to the resort (“rancho relaxo”) in a
snowstorm, so that should be a little fun. I’m going to be sleeping
in the back, curled up in my favorite red wool blanket that is two
miles long, and ergo will not fit into my apartment.

I do wish I’d brought my copy of “the intimate merton.” that
surprised me. I usually take (the other) Tom is doses, but I was
quite surprised. so we have a few merton books around here. Greg, my
brother, attempted to introduce my mom to ol Tommy, but she’s less of
a spiritual person. she needs the real. Merton was too…
something. (can’t think of the word right now) for her.

okay Tom, I’m gonna bounce. must shower and get into the car.)

namaste, anna

FWD: the prayer part…
In case anyone is interested, Saint Theresa is known as the Saint of
the Little Ways. Meaning she believed in doing the little things in life
well and with great love. She is also the patron Saint of flower growers
and florists. Roses represent her.

St. Theresa’s Prayer:

May today there be peace within.

May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May
you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith. May
you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that
has been given to you…. May you be content knowing you are a child of
God…. Let this presence settle into our bones, and allow your soul the
freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.

It is there for each and every one of you.