Brown Water Nirvana

I don't know much about nirvana. In my mind it's a place of bliss and happiness, where the world runs on greased wheels. I'm sure that's not what it actually is, it's probably more a state of mind, but today I realized how much I've been searching for such a place -- mindless bliss.

I don't know much about Kurt Cobain either...not even sure if I'm spelling his name correctly, but with the first official day of school underway, I came to a realization that drugs didn't kill Cobain, his belief that nirvana existed did.

I've been back at work since August 7, participating in workshops, learning about the brain, and planning with my co-teacher for the upcoming year. All has been going well. I've learned a lot. I was ready for today in every way.

Yesterday, after laying out everything for today, I set off to the gym for a hard workout. I came home, sweaty and relaxed, fixed dinner and sat down to watch some TV before I headed up for a bath in our luxury bath tub (my 5' 9" frame can finally stretch out fully in the bath!) as my final before-school-baptismal. I ran the water, added bubblebath, and then proceeded to get undressed.

As I was about to step into the tub, I noticed the water was brown, the bubbles, too and the first thought in my mind was, "Shit, our pipes are shot."

We've watched others in our neighborhood remodel their houses over the past four years. Within three months after moving back in, their sewage lines burst, too much strain on very old systems (Seattle is notorious for our clay drainage pipes). Ann and I thought we'd avoided it, trusting that our contractor had replaced all the pipes to the street. We called him at 9 last night. He reassured us it wasn't his work, but something wrong on the city's end.

So we called the water district, only no one could tell us exactly which district we were. Luckily, the woman on the other line was quite helpful and told us what to do -- run your water for 20-30 minutes and see if it clears. If not, call back.

We did -- both.

When we called back, she told us to check with the neighbors and see if their water was brown. It was, therefore it wasn't our pipes, it was the water main.

Finally, she told us to call 911 and tell them about our situation. Which we did. They hooked us up with the appropriate water people who explained that a "citizen" had "accessed" a fire hydrant earlier that day, flushing water through pipes that have sat idle since the last time the hydrant was accessed. What we were seeing in our water was grime and god knows what else from that flushing. Running our water for 20-30 minutes wasn't going to help. They had to send out a crew to flush the system.

By this time it's almost 11 and I was still sticky and sweaty from my workout. And I had to get up and teach the next day -- first day of school and all.

"Don't take a shower," the water woman tells me. "It would be like taking a shower in watery dirt."

So I went to bed sticky with dried sweat and set the alarm early so I could go to the gym for a shower before the FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!

I slept very little and luckily, when I woke, the water was clear, the shower at home was available, and my life went on as planned.

The first day of school went without a hitch. I'm tired, but not from teaching. I'm tired from not sleeping or tossing and turning in my crusty remnants.

What did the brown water teach me? Nothing really expect a lesson I've been on the verge of learning for quite some time: Believing nirvana exists can kill you.

Then this afternoon, as I was walking from school to the gym for another sweaty session I remembered Michael Tolliver, my favorite character from Armisted Maupin's series "Tales of the City". Michael talked about the curse of three -- the belief romantics have that you can have all three -- a nice house, a great lover, and a good job. If you've got two out of three, you're doing well, but once you go for all three, you're doomed.

I actually have all three I realized on my walk. Michael was wrong about the curse. It's not that the three aren't possible; the curse is your belief that if you achieve all three, all will be right in the world. That you, in essence, will have reached nirvana.

But there are wrong things in the world -- personally and globally. From brown water to Karl Rove, from fire hydrants to war in Iraq.

Perhaps nirvana is what F. Scott Fitzgerald described as intelligence..."...the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function. One should, for example, be able to see that things are hopeless and yet be determined to make them otherwise."

I can be at peace with my life and still have water troubles. I can love my house, my job, my partner and still be furious at the government for the layers of lies it's heaved upon the world. My heart can hold both kindness and frustration, patience and anger, and not die under the weight of their opposition.

In fact, in holding both perhaps I have reached a state of nirvana -- equally grounded in hope and hopelessness, never letting either of the extremes kill me.



PS -- I've just reread this post and while it sounds as if I am depressed or sad, I am not. I feel at peace with my life both personally and professionally. As I said to Ann tonight, I like this life...it took me a helluva long time to get here, but I really like it even if the water runs a little brown on occasion.