<\/p>\n
I crawl out of bed in the wee hours, take up my soulful readings, close my eyes, center my attention.\u00a0 Some days it\u2019s all an exercise in frustration, a sense that I\u2019m getting nowhere.<\/p>\n Some days, I experience what I can only describe as \u201cthe whoosh\u201d, which feels like an instant upward surge, pulling every erg of energy in my body from my toes up to some focal point I have to trust is my 3rd<\/sup> eye, that not-just-symbolic center that leads the spiritual student eventually into wholeness.\u00a0 When this happens, I feel my whole body vibrating, as if I\u2019m a guitar string that\u2019s been tightened and plucked, the note I now sound pitched ever so slightly higher than before.<\/p>\n In such a state, stuff just is clear.\u00a0 I don\u2019t mean it becomes clear, by some process of intellect or emotional self-control.\u00a0 I mean it just is, insights and understanding simply appearing, full-blown.\u00a0 Problems not solved but rendered non-existent when viewed from some higher perspective.\u00a0 The bull actually approaches and lets me pet him, before he runs off ahead again, out of sight.<\/p>\n On the Path, I\u2019m still green, still inept, still unable to maintain any state of grace for much longer than a few minutes.\u00a0 But those few minutes in the early morning propel and buoy me, if incompletely as yet, as I bounce through my day, tilting at twin windmills: the health care industry that holds my husband and mother in its cold scientific grip, and a political demagogue who seems gleefully hell-bent on bringing the entire country to its knees.<\/p>\n The thing about D.C. is that everyone crosses paths with everyone else, eventually.\u00a0 I certainly didn\u2019t socialize much.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t have time or energy.\u00a0 But Fran, my boss at NOW, called me up one morning and insisted I come to a cocktail party in Georgetown that night.\u00a0 There would be a mix of movers and shakers there, including a source I\u2019d been trying to track down.\u00a0 She also reminded me that I did work for NOW, and that it would be good for the organization for their reclusive blogger to put in an appearance.\u00a0 She didn\u2019t add what was always unspoken: I was the wife of a very rich man, and a woman like that is always welcome anywhere.<\/p>\n No one, not even my contacts at NOW, knew just how bad it was getting for Bob.\u00a0 We kept that to ourselves.<\/p>\n But I decided to go.\u00a0 For one thing, Fran was damned insistent.\u00a0 She informed me she was sending a car, and would be at my door herself if I wasn\u2019t ready when it arrived.\u00a0 For another, it wasn\u2019t far, and Bob insisted he was good to stay home alone for a few hours.\u00a0 Bless his heart, he wanted me to have some kind of life, any kind of life.<\/p>\n So there I am, wearing my fallback little black cocktail dress, looking decent for a change.\u00a0 I admit I wasn\u2019t processing the noise and crowd very well.\u00a0 I was just too fried out.\u00a0 Still, I forced myself to mingle and track down the congressman I\u2019d wanted to talk to.<\/p>\n I could read his surprise at my appearance.\u00a0 People who read my blog and connected me with NOW tended to imagine me as old, dumpy, and pissed. The congressman, apparently nudged off balance by someone young-ish, and well-turned out, gave me at least a little of what I wanted to know before he wandered off toward bigger fish.<\/p>\n Trying to mentally organize his information without benefit of pen and paper, I found an out of the way spot to sip my drink and rehearse in my mind what I\u2019d heard, and how it fit with what else I knew.\u00a0 This was what I loved about what I did, fitting the puzzle pieces together.\u00a0 I was already framing my excuses to my boss for a hasty exit when around the corner comes\u2026 Lester Worsham.<\/p>\n I\u2019d seen a lot of pictures, but never met him face to face.\u00a0 He was a large man, probably 6\u20193\u2019 or more.\u00a0 Heavy through the shoulders and chest, thinning hair and a florid face with sharp little eyes that immediately pinned me down, like he\u2019d been looking for me.<\/p>\n Gunning for me.<\/p>\n He loomed over me, smiling with that smarmy charm he\u2019d perfected, and held out a hand, calling me \u201cHani\u201d, a little verbal familiarity that somehow felt indecent.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t use my nickname professionally.<\/p>\n His hand was large, slightly damp and aggressively engulfed mine. He held on, didn\u2019t let go, but brought his other hand on top of the grasp, politician-style.\u00a0 With the top hand, his thumb slid ever so slightly along the delicate underside of my wrist.<\/p>\n Talk about creepy.\u00a0 I wanted to jerk my hand away, but felt his strength holding me in place.\u00a0 I felt a spike of panic, the air of menace was so thick; I was frozen between the instinct to run and the instinct to cuss him out.\u00a0 But I got a grip on my fear:\u00a0 Cool it, Hani, he\u2019s doing it on purpose. Do not let him freak you out.\u00a0 Do not let him get to you.\u00a0 Come on, show him you\u2019ve got some cojones, too.<\/i>\u00a0 I grounded myself more firmly in my kitten-heeled sling-backs and looked him square in the eye.<\/p>\n He told me he was a regular reader, a real fan.\u00a0 He said my column always left him wondering where I would go next, how far I could go before I \u2026hit my limits.\u00a0 Such a fine mind\u2026 he said \u201cmind\u201d while giving me the up-down leer \u2013 another politician\u2019s move I\u2019d long ago gotten used to.\u00a0 Except when politicians do it, you know they\u2019re just eyeing the real estate.\u00a0 The way Worsham did it weirdly made me flash an image of Hitler smiling flirtatiously at Poland in the summer of 1939.<\/p>\n He went on, still holding me in place.\u00a0 He really admired a woman with such perseverance, he said.\u00a0 The way I got onto a topic and just kept digging.\u00a0 No matter where it led.\u00a0 No matter the consequences.\u00a0 He said it made him wonder what it would take to stop me.<\/p>\n Then, he did that thing again, stroking my wrist; having had his say, he brought my hand to his lips and kissed it like a gentleman, except, oh,<\/i> god<\/i>, there was tongue involved.<\/p>\n I was too shaken to get out the \u201cscrew you\u201d I so wanted to shout at him.\u00a0 I stumbled out of there like a shot, unable to stand a second more under the same roof with that snake.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t say goodbye to my hostess, I didn\u2019t tell Fran I was leaving, I just fled, struggling to compose myself on the short car ride home.<\/p>\n I didn\u2019t say anything to Bob, either.\u00a0 What would have been the point?\u00a0 Besides, even being the mild-mannered sweetheart that he was, he would have probably have called in a hit squad right then.\u00a0 In hindsight, that would have changed everything, wouldn\u2019t it?<\/p>\n No, I just went home, took a long, hot shower and spent a long, sleepless night listening to Bob, still blessedly alive beside me, still filling my life with love, one breath at a time.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n < previous\u00a0<\/a>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 next ><\/a><\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" < previous\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 next > I feel like that little silver ball in the pinball machines, bouncing from one post to another, alternately setting off alarms and then missing entirely what I\u2019m aiming for. I crawl … Continue reading ![\"kitten](\"https:\/\/hanilives.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/Photo1-150x200.jpg\")
<\/a>I feel like that little silver ball in the pinball machines, bouncing from one post to another, alternately setting off alarms and then missing entirely what I\u2019m aiming for.<\/p>\n