Great Soul

Little sweetheart, I’m having difficulties. But you are the blessing of my life, even in my distraction and despair.

On Sunday, as I told you, I went up to that little church at West End and W77th St. The sermon was very interesting because one of the things he talked about was the scholarly origin of the Seven Deadly Sins. That it wasn’t set out as a fire and brimstone tract to excoriate us, even though it became appropriated and synonymous with that. It was really an attempt to identify what gets in our way habitually and how to free ourselves of what’s preventing us from being whole. He cited the word “pusillanimous”.  A rather rare word to most people although as a couple of old theatre types like yourself and I, I think we’d recall its centrality to a speech in John Osborne’s “Look Back in Anger”.

What I didn’t know and what Osborne fails to share is that the Latin origin of the word is really something quite different from the modern, albeit rare, usage. It literally means “smallness of spirit”. The diminishing of our soul. And when we let things habitually sap this spirit that is not only inside but is the very essence of who and what we are - our very soul - we shrink and become lesser, less than what and who we truly are.

Little sweetheart, that happens to me. I get wrapped up in bad things, soul diminishing habits that keep me from hearing and heeding and following you and it makes me ache with longing and regret. Over and over I seem to keep banging up against the same pusillanimous walls. At least I ultimately recognize them and straighten myself out, get back on track, but how I wish I would just break the spell.

The thing I want to say that fills me with both regret and ultimately gratitude, is that you keep coming to me even as I fail. Last night you came to me in a dream that I can’t, sadly, so very sadly, recall nearly as well as I would like and need to. But the thing I do remember was that you were frustrated with me because you were trying to tell me something but I was distracted. Like checking emails or looking to see if I had a message or something. That fills me with regret. It’s enough to make me despair at my stupidity - that you would come to me in dreams but I would be too distracted (With what?! What could be more important than you?!) to heed or give you full attention.

But the hopeful part is that you were there. You did come for me. And though the day which also was filled with stupid distraction and no one’s fault but my own, that you kept on finding me. You were there at eleven eleven. And in birdsong and butterflies on my run. And my eye fell upon your picture at a crucial time and your words at another.

You don’t give up on me even when I’m not at my best. The very way you’d never give up on me in life. Indeed, in the moments I most needed you - even the ones against my stupid will - you never walked away or ever threatened to. You made your presence even more and greater known.

You are the exact opposite of pusillanimous because you are the greatest, fiercest, stoutest, most courageous spirit of all. You are The Great Soul.

Little sweetheart, I am so so sorry for all my mistakes. And eternally (literally) grateful for you and your resolutely never giving up on me. Thank you, my love. My I heed and follow and be worthy of you. This is my prayer. And I love you forever.