Did You Know?

“I don’t know why I’m struggling today, but I feel lost. Nothing seems to make sense! Life is NOT what I thought it would be…I mean, not even close!" I shift on the bare wood floor. "I have responsibilities and such. I have things I have to do and need to do. And I am just…not even done. It’s not that. I just don’t have a direction - at least not one that I’m excited to go in. Life isn’t what I thought, and I can’t exactly say so. I mean, I suppose that's why I'm talking to you. I do love my husband and my kids - so please don’t tell them - but I’m tired of all the have-to’s for them all! I love them. I love being a mother. I love being a partner! Parts of it all at least."

Sniffing I rummage through my purse for a tissue but can't find one. Before I give up and use my sleeve, they hand me one. "Thank you." I blow. "I know I chose this…but can we really choose what we really didn’t know was entailed? I’d never put them back, but I feel as though time is running out and will I even be able to do what I want when I’m able? Will I be physically able to do what I want? Or mentally? Or motivationally? I mean that runs out faster than I knew! I need a job but having done so many kinds there are definitely jobs I don’t want. But who’s able to make 6 figures as a gardener, or artist? I mean really? This is all too depressing. I'm sorry, but I’d like to go back and tell all those teachers and adults that life is a LOT different, and didn’t they know that and if so why did they not say so? Except I can’t. No one can go back. And who knows what they were thinking."

There's silence. I look over at my companion. "Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m so eclectic and different I don’t fit this mold. I don’t feel like I fit any mold really. I’m chock full of questions and nary an answer is nearby! You don't happen to have a magic 8-ball or anything do you? No, I didn't think so. Not that I really believe in those things anyway. But at a certain point one feels desperate! Not in the suicidal way. I don't joke about that. I don't think anyone should really. But I'll be honest, I'm desperate to figure this all out! What's the point of life? What's the point of anything we do? And how can we tell our kids how to figure this out if we can't figure it out?"

I'm rewarded by an awkward pat on the knee. "I appreciate you listening, seriously. I mean, I realize I rather boxed you in here. But you see there’s really no one else I can talk to about this! I can’t share this with my husband or my kids! They’d think I don’t really love them or want them - and I do! I just feel like there’s so much more to life, or if there’s not there should be! What happened to stopping to smell the roses? But then what? Even if you do stop - what else? How do you figure it all out? Why is it all so difficult?"

A small dinging sound comes through. The silent man starts to get up.

“What’s that? Is that for you? Are you leaving? I’m sure you have a job to do but you’re a mime! You’re literally the only person I can trust to share all of this with! Please, I'll give you more money! My therapist doesn't take insurance and she's far too expensive now, so there's room in the budget there!"

The mime hands me a piece of paper. 

I read. “Thank you for participating in The Mime’s Confessional’ This living art installation is being conducted in major cities all over the world. Your words were broadcast to those outside and will be available online for others to read. Are you…is this…oh my god. The goal of this endeavor is to help everyone who hears to have more empathy and compassion for those around them. People heard this? MORE people will hear this? Oh my god, my husband is out there! He only agreed to stop if we could go get ice cream after - you have to tell him this was a joke! A prank! This isn't happening. Tell me this is a joke!"

A knock on the door. It cracks open and a man with a headset on pokes his head through. “Sorry ma’am, we have others waiting to come in.” 

“Do they know what they’re getting into? Did they really hear what I said?" My voice drops to a whisper. "Did you happen to notice if my husband was listening?"

“Ma’am, please. This is only meant to be for 2 minutes at a time.” He looks at his watch and back to me. 

I turn in horror and look at the mime who shrugs sympathetically. Slowly I pick up my purse and move to the door before looking back. “Have you figured it all out?" He looks at me for a moment before shaking his head. "Well...if you do, look me up. I'd love to know." 

"Barbara? You've got to meet Steven here - did you know he invented peanut butter whiskey? Who knew? I told him we'd go try some after we had some ice cream. What took so long? I told you not to go in if it was scary. She really doesn't do well with scary stuff Steven - she even screams if I'm opening a bottle of Prosecco! It's a hoot - you should see it sometime!" 

Steven smiles at me, not unkindly. "I think it was a bit windy out here. Hard to hear any conversation." I can feel my face flush red and grab him in a big hug. 

"Geez Barbara. We just met the man."

I let go. "Sorry! I just...well we love whiskey! Can't wait to try out yours!" 

As we walk away I look back to see the mime holding the door for someone else. He raises his hand in a stationary wave and I half-lift mine. Definitely time for a whiskey.