The New Mew

“Welcome! Please come in. Yes. Yes. Sit down. Of course. Not there… No… There. Perfect. Give me five minutes. Look around, make yourself at home. Do not touch the things you cannot name. Ideal. Patience is a virtue, maybe a cliché, but one you’ll forgive me for.”

Minutes pass and your hands go numb beneath your ass as you avoid making eye-contact with the various stares that surround you. Do not touch the things you cannot name? Don’t touch anything. You could label everything, but a name can be sacred and who are you to authorize such a pertinent assignment? What’s a name but a lesson taught in a life you’re leaving behind?

Don’t look. Can’t help but see. A lot of memories in such a strange space make you feel like you’re in a waiting room formed from your own personal diaries. Your mom stares down from a series by the stairs, placated by the friends who falsified their cares. Individual interactions with meaning over-analyzed represented by physical icons in a space ever-rationalized.

The room appears to each differently, a memory or memoir or future or farewell. An ironic image of all they did well. A last-ditch effort to change their minds, with a small disclaimer to pay for the time.

I can see a childhood marred in neglect. A teen addled in pubescent disrespect. A young adult with fear and a lack of a dream. Followed loosely by a job at which my internal screams. I never followed the path that made the most sense, always allotting for others whose love fell to past-tense. Satisfaction is a song written by an old hero, but it’s been a long time since idols held value. Spent some time to myself for personal matters? Since when was my own good the only good that truly mattered?

When are they coming back? I signed the form. I left my purse behind. I even told the taxi driver the wrong address. Reading the small-print used to be an MO and you stick to it like a fly on a faxed sheet of memos.

The door opens. The one you didn’t see when they took their exit, and the one you lost as soon as it shut.

“So you’re over it? You want out? But suicide is for quitters, am I right? Let’s move on. Who did you once dream of being?”

“Once I wanted to be a magician. Sometimes I see myself as a child. Sometimes a flea on a rabid dog. The last time I felt at peace, I was a cat in a dream on the Nile.”

“Stop! Enough. More eager than most, less trouble than a ghost, as mundane as a mote. Give it up. Let’s find peace.” The wordplay seemed redundant until I realized I needed to see the importance of redundancy and the power of ignorance.

I did. I listened. I followed all the ridiculous demands and even removed that damn bun. I always follow the rules, it always worked out for me. I earned my right to MAKE the rules! But that was enough. I am here now, and this will be the last time I bend to anyone else’s will. My life was blind aside from the deep knowledge that this life was never mine.

“Shut your eyes and let your mind wander… Think of a space in which you are the owner. Think of a place that is far from this corner. Away from this life and into another. A new kind of existence, a unique coalition. Meld with the thought, with the form, with the face. Who would you be if you could be who you ought?”

Eyes closed, cheeks rosed. I’ve never been hypnotized but soon I realized I’ve never sought a position that wasn’t a given. For the first time I felt the power to control exactly who I was and for the first time I felt the power to control exactly what I was. I stopped being me and I started being free.

Timetables, calendars, emails and Zoom. No one can find me, no one can force me. I wander free and eat for free and live in the shade or sun or rain or what I please. I hunt for rodents or yawn at opponents. Maybe I’ll stretch and claw and ask for yarn… Fuck it I might run away.

Goosebumps all over, like the chill of November. Losing all sense of time and place my heart beats a rhythm at a whole new pace. I can’t control my inner urges and lose the will to try and stop it. At first all I know is darkness and fear. No control, no sounds, nothing to hear. My mind goes blank as my body goes numb and I shed the terror to enjoy the adventure. What was I? Why did I? Doesn’t matter. There’s a new “I”.

Next thing coming is a memory cleansing. Like a disease from a movie you forget seeing. You can quote the sad bits and the emotions feel hurt, but the faces and places blur as your mind realigns. What was such a worry no longer holds weight while this new focus sheds light on the comparison scale. Focus on the now and the thoughts within it, forget the cares and the harried life you were living.

Wake up. Wake up. Why wake up? For the first time in a long time you choose to stay in bed, but not out of a lack of motivation and meaning – instead you stretch and enjoy the new feeling. I don’t know how I look and don’t care how I look and as a first I abandon all thoughts of a look. My life is my own and I don’t need to look.

What day is it? Who effing cares? Feel the sunlight, because nothing can phase me. Never have to earn my keep when my keep is my castle. Pet me, groom me, feed me, but let me nap and let me lounge because I am queen of this new life I found.