June 13, 2004

9:48 a.m.

Msg in a Btl

It was kind of like sending a message to myself in the future.

I sat zazen yesterday, formally, for the first time in about a hundred years. I have a little pot of prayer cards I made up a while back, so as to spend a little time placing others in the center of the Universe, and the one I picked was for my friend Matthew, about whom I haven't thought for a while. I've known him since 1979. He's a few years younger than I am, and has been a brilliant theatre director and lovely friend. We discovered many great shows together and had a lot of private jokes. It still touches me that I was the first person he ever told that he was gay.

The trouble is, in the last seven years or so he's withdrawn, hugely blew an Artistic Director job he had, moved back to New York and disappeared off the map. The last time I was able to contact him was just after 9-11; I'd called to make sure he and his partner were all right, and he did call me back. They were, indeed, okay; something had prevented him from going to work that day, in the vicinity of the towers.

Over the years I've known him, he's always been a frightened genius. He was plump in high school and continued into obesity by his late 20s. In college he had a spell of panic attacks, and confessed to me his fear of "being unwell." Every so often he'd get slightly motivated to be healthier, but I think he was just so depressed overall that he couldn't stick with it.

Whenever we have a gig in NYC (very rarely), I email him and let him know, hoping he'll suddenly show up. But so far, no response.

Anyway, my "Balance for Matthew" card came out of the pile yesterday so I spent a few minutes imagining him in spiritual, emotional and physical health. It reminded me that I miss him. It's funny that I still feel actively friends with him even though he's been so silent for years. I don't often have that kind of acceptance for people. Maybe it's because he never done me wrong, but is only struggling with himself.

All of this writing about him this morning prompted me to send him an email telling him I love him and don't forget it. Even if he can't write back, I want him to get that message.

Anyway, I have to get out of here and go back to Rose's. We had a great bike ride yesterday, and her boss, Dr. B., came along with us. Today, Wild Oats, animated films, and the painting of the front room.