Halleluja

Welcome to the beginning of Elizabeth Gilbert's book "Eat, pray, love".
This is the part where she finds herself  on the bathroom floor at 2am crying in that dead kinda way, except it's not her it's me, and I'm not in the bathroom, I'm on the floor in the laundry, huddling in the corner and hoping not to be discovered.  Its one of the only places I can find where I have some privacy and where there are no cameras watching me.  Its also conveniently closeby as I have been tending the laundry for the past 4 hours and am now happy to just let rip. 


I'm not totally surprised.  I've felt this coming on over the last couple of days as my stress levels slowly started escalating.  The whole thing with Tara and the housesitting gig in Sedona really got to me.   It was so perfect.  A place where I could have my own room, a beautiful natural environment, some peace and quiet for a change.  Tara wanted references, I got her references. We spoke on the phone.  I suggested we skype.  I did everything I could to convince her I was the right person but I could hear the hesitation in her voice and by the end of each day I could feel my shoulders arching, my back tight.

On Friday I finally realised that it wasn't going to materialise (when she slammed the phone down in my ear) and it felt like someone had whacked a ten pound hammer into my chest.  The blow left me dead and numb. 

Where am I going next?  How am I going to survive?  What the hell am I going to do??


Elizabeth Gilbert had it all figured out. 
She ate in Italy, prayed in India and fell in love in Bali.  My trip on the other hand has been a tumble of experiences, uncertainty being the common denominator.  Hey, that's what I wanted.  That's where I thought the freedom came from: no boundaries.  Right now I hate nothing more than the fact that I have no cooking clue where I'm going next.  It makes me feel insecure and vulnerable. 


The Sedona news comes, the hammer hits.  I work nightshift and prepare to hit the sack early.  After all, I have those readings to do tomorrow in Rockridge.  I'm going to make some money, and that alone should serve as some kind of inspiration.  Except that things don't go according to plan.  My body has an agenda of its own and that is to break down in the laundry and lie there on the floor for a couple of hours gasping like a fish on tiles.  I work my way through almost an entire box of tissues and leave around 3am with eyes the size of golfballs, but by 11pm I'm already sure there's no way I'll be capable of doing the readings.  It's like I've had a giant inverted pimple explode in my chest cavity and the puss has infected me.  I am a zombie.  There is nothing left inside of me to give to anyone else except for some pussy splatters and blood on the walls.  In a moment of lucidity I pick up my cell and text both clients:

Hi there, I'm ill and won't be able to come tomorrow.  I wanted to let you know asap. If I could be there I wd.  Anel

Well what would you say. (Your healer is currently offline, please try again later.) After sending the texts and checking that they go through at 11pm I switch off my phone. 

I can't sleep.  I toss and turn all night, crying intermittently.  There's this pain inside of me that has to come out so I let it wash over me like a giant fire, cleaning my past and opening my future.  I fall asleep round 7am and sleep fitfully till about 12h30 when I wake up feeling like there's a raw blister in my chest. 

After waking up I start looking suspiciously at my phone.  I decide not to switch it on, I don't think I'm capable of dealing with any bad news that might be stored on it.  By all rights I should have set an alarm and phoned both of them this morning to check that they got the message, to apologise, but I didn't.  I shower.  I buy some miso soup which is warm and satisfying.  I spend the day in bed watching tv with dead eyes, Yuko looking in on me occasionally, giving me a little massage with her tiny little Japanese hands. (She's very sweet.)


At 5pm I gather myself up and prepare to go and see KD Lang performing in a cathedral just up the street.  I bought a ticket for the show in advance, if I hadn't I wouldn't go, but the idea of not having made any money and wasting the ticket is too much.  I go to the concert in sneakers and dirty jeans and the ticket lady looks me up and down in a very unpleasant way.  I'm a traveler.  I have only one pair of closed shoes and these will be them.  I have some champagne and regret it immediately when it feels like I might fall over.

I need to keep an eye on the time as I have to be back to work a shift after the show (you don't need a soul or a brain to wash dishes) but the only place I have the time is on my phone, so with a glass of champagne in me I finally switch it on.  There are 2 voice messages.  My heart sinks.  I listen to the beginning of the first:

Hi Anel, this is Christine.  Uhm.  I thought you would be here by now...

I switch the phone back off in a nano-second.  The number I texted... It was her home number.  She never got the message.  She waited for me.  She thinks I just never showed.  It's all too much for me, my insides curl up and die as I face the fact that I will have to phone this person in the morning and explain to her what happened.  After all, Emily recommended me to her friend, who in turn recommended me to this person.  I've embaressed at least 3 people by not showing.  I've never done something like this before and the shame sits on my head like a disfigured baby.  I can't bear to listen to the other message.  Actually, I can't deal with this at all.

The concert is a benefit, the money being gifted to a buddhist program that is being offered to schools.  The cathedral is big and majestic, the crowd no more than 500.  When KD Lang finally comes onto stage she's no further than 15 metres away from me.  And she sings.  She croons.  Her voice a yearning twist in my side.  Before I left SA I was watching her videos on Youtube and now here she is infront of me, and even though she wears a suit and her styling is reminiscent of Elvis she's a whole lot more woman than the one sitting next to me in a neglige and high heels.    

After the first song it feels like my heart might explode.  Here I am, in a cathedral listening to KD Lang whom I've adored for years.  She's right here, in this holy place, and I am so, so thankful to be here!  What an amazing journey I've been on.  How utterly blessed I am to be on this adventure.  I suddenly remember how in years to come I might look back on this and wish to be there again, free from everything, nothing tying me down.  And just like that I lift back up into the sky, my spirit bobbing up and down like a giant champagne cork on a giant ocean, and I smile.

"Hallelujah"


Now I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah


Baby I have been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

There was a time you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in you
The holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

You say I took the name in vain
I don't even know the name
But if I did, well really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light
In every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Halleluja

As sung by KD Lang, words by Leonard Cohen