Good morning all. This is Your Morning Briefing, Monday, January 30, 2012.
Where were we? Oh, yeah, Suzanne was telling me a bit of her family history.
I wondered how much longer her father owned the deli after he found a publisher for the Iliad, and what happened then. She told me, a week after it was published the Iliad went to the top of the New Athens Times’ best seller list, and stayed there for 26 weeks. It then dropped to #2 after his second book, “The Odyssey” took over first place. After that, he was in much demand for speeches, book promotion tours, signings and the like, and realized he couldn’t manage the deli while he was being gone so much, so he sold it. With his speaker’s fees, book sales and profit from the sale of Musings, we never had to worry again. We were even able to afford a new chariot.
“As for me,” she said, “I had a rather normal childhood, considering my father was who he was, and my mother Calliope was a muse. I think that is what help me decide to follow in her footsteps. Because of my mother, who was an epic poetry/song muse, our house always had interesting people dropping in for tea, dinner, Ouzo and late night talks for as long as I can remember. There was always music and poetry in our house.” Sounds like the kind of house I’d like.
“I’m going to shorten this up,” she said to me, “since I didn’t come here to talk about me, but to work with you.” I told her I didn’t mind because she was telling me things I didn’t know, especially about her father and mother, which told me more about her. I wanted to know as much as I could.
Well, I found out she had gone to high school in Athens, and after two years transferred to a prep school for aspiring muses her mother had gotten her into. Then it was on to Athens Muse University where she graduated at the top of her class with a major in prose musings. She said she really hadn’t taken to epic poetry and outside of the pan flute, had no musical talent to speak of, so she settled on prose. Besides the job prospects for prose muses were better due to the fact there weren’t as many of them as there were in other disciplines.
I said, “I’m glad you did. It sounds to me you had a very interesting life up to that point.”
I then thought it was time to move on, so told her I thought I had an idea about what she told me the other night about teaching me to dance with my dreams. I still wasn’t quite sure, so I asked if she could elaborate.
“Well Bobby,” I know everything there is to know about you, and I’m learning more every day. I know you learned a long time ago to dance with your demons, and that showed us you were capable of learning what you need to know,” she said. She explained you seemed to know when you dance with your demons, they become yours, and pose less of a threat to you. We figured if you could do that, you could learn to dance with your dreams too.
“Suze,” I asked, “Who, pray tell, is us?’ Thinking there was only her involved in this improbable adventure. She just sat back and told me that headquarters had been following me for many years, and one day her boss showed her the file they had on me, plus some video. I stopped her right there, and said, “Video? Right now I’m having a tough enough time believing what I’ve been seeing, but video?”
She just smiled and said, “We have our sources. We may not have had Google or Yahoo, but we know more than they do anyway.”
She then told me she asked for me as an assignment because she liked what she saw. She told me what convinced her that she wanted to work with me was when she saw some of the things I was doing when I was working at the mental health center in Grand Forks and going back to school after I was divorced. She told me she was watching me one day, and remembered one thing I’d written down in particular, and told me that did it for her.
“And that was?”
She sat back, with that smile and said, “There was a quote you read in one of the many books you were reading back then, and I think it was on a poster of some kind also. You even had it written on a 3×5 card and stuck on the wall by your desk.
She said, “I hope I remember it right, it read, “If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, its yours. If it doesn’t, it never was.”
She was right, I remembered, and realized I had forgotten it, or who wrote it. I never did quite figure out what it meant, but I think she’s here now to help me figure that out.
Again, Suzanne left me wondering if she was ever going to answer the question I had posed. Maybe we’ll get back to that tomorrow.