An experience that knocks you on your ass is tough to write about. When something is so big that it cannot be contained by words, it refuses being stuffed into a shape. So, I write around it, not about it. It holds a literal negative space that appears only in the shape left behind after I cannot write it.
My best friend and the love of my life for 12 years died May 16th 2009. It broke me. And it left behind a darkness impossible to describe—changing everything.
Scientists report that the sense of smell triggers memory more poignantly than any other; if you are a listener, music boasts the same effect. Sitting on a mat in a yoga room on the fourth of July 2010, all I wanted to do was forget where I had been the year before and the year before that. The class began. The instructor had created a playlist that “celebrated” America’s Independence and Bruce Springsteen came blaring through the speakers—I time warped to the year before. This is where the work happens.