The Bare Struggle Is Real

Misunderstood gifts

Petaluma, CA. Photo by author. 2022.

Can you help me down? Mia’s mom, Karen, taped me here.

Just help me down, and I’ll tell you the story.

Good question. I don’t know why she did it.

But I have a guess.

Mia is about to turn eight, and eight is the age when kids who can talk to inanimate objects forget they can talk to inanimate objects.

Inanimate supposedly means we don’t have a soul. I can’t read but I listen attentively to everything humans say. Doesn’t that mean I have a soul?

I think all inanimate objects have a soul. You just can’t hear it. It is hard to complain or organize when you don’t have a voice. I mean, really, if I ask you to sign my petition in the forest, and no one is around to hear it, can we demand equal rights?

Karen didn’t stop listening to the voices. That’s why she moved deep into the forest. Her husband had to abandon all his dreams of having a successful window-washing business. He never understood why they had to move and she never confided in him.

Karen was afraid of what people would say. She believed people are not nice to people that hear voices. If someone was to write a story about an inanimate object it would be called prosopopoeia. It sounds like a made-up word. It sounds like a speech given by Popeye. Or it would be called a fable and that just minimizes this special gift because it sounds like a ball fairies play with.

Is it a gift when no one appreciates it? Good question.

Probably not. At that point, it is probably a curse. But can it be a curse when it is who you are? Just because the world outside of us doesn’t understand the world inside of us, it doesn't mean we need to change to accommodate those that wouldn’t appreciate all of our colors.

But Karen never stopped listening. And when Mia talks to me, she knows I’m responding. I can see her following her conversation, unlike her dad who just thinks Mia’s interactions with me are just part of a cute phase she will eventually grow out of.

Karen knows that listening to inanimate objects when no one else can is quite painful and a burden. It doesn’t matter what you do, you’re always going to be worried someone is going to find out. When you are eating, your food is talking to you. You are walking through your neighborhood and you are upsetting the concrete sidewalk. You try to take a shower, and you are getting all sorts of commentary on your body and your hygiene practices from a judgy shower head.

So Karen is trying to prevent her from the same pains she suffered growing up. She wishes her daughter would actually be able to eat in the city. She had to move out of the city. Living in the city can be torture. Objects in the forest are nurturing; trees are wise, birds are optimistic, lakes are charming. Objects in the city are obnoxious; traffic signs are rude, streets are jaded, and stop lights are cynical.

But a gift is a gift and we need to accept it regardless of the pain that brings on. It is ours to give to, and share with, the world. That’s where Karen stopped, she didn’t see past the pain. And past the pain, there is the beauty of the art that only our unique soul can create because soulless or inanimate should only be used for people that give up on who they are.

I wish I could stay and chat but I need to get going and save a little girl. I’m sorry again to be such an inconvenience but can I hitch a ride?

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