by Livia Balaban
Rated G = V, itsy. A bit of H. A light one.
Spoilers: all things
Summary: That little Buddha wasn't alone.
Mulder has a shrine.
It's a little one, sitting unobtrusively on a shelf beneath his aquarium, but it's definitely a shrine. Symbols of faith adorn it, and I find the variety and arrangement of the icons fascinating.
At the rear, the largest item stands, looming over its companions. It's a large cross, clearly antique, intricately carved from dark wood. A small cup and lit candle sit at its base.
I know better than to think it represents the origins of his spirituality. The cross is a symbol of my faith, not his. I wonder why it's there.
In front of it and to the side a Buddha sits, cross-legged and smiling, gleaming gold in the candle's flickering light. A tiny dish is set before it, and it appears to contain powdered incense of some sort. Sandalwood, maybe. I'm not an expert on the subject.
So there is the Buddha, content with his middle-way life, contemplating the transcendence of earthly woe.
How very Mulder.
A little fountain sits to the other side. It's little more than a dish of rocks splashed quietly by water pumped from below, but it's undoubtedly a statement of Taoist sentiment. The uncarved block, shaped by life and accepting of the natural flow of events.
Lao Tse, the founder of Taoism, was depicted once in a portrait called "The Vinegar Tasters", demonstrating his philosophy. In the painting, he, Confuscious and Buddha are tasting vinegar. But only Lao Tse is smiling, for only he accepts that all things in life possess a unique beauty, regardless of their effect on the world.
Mulder is maturing.
There is a small silver goblet on the shelf, with Hebrew text overlaid on the side. I cannot read it, but assume it has something to do with the wine the cup would contain. Perhaps it's a reminder to be thankful for what he has.
Mulder is reflecting.
There is a tiny model of a mosque there, too. A reminder that we all came from the same source, regardless of ideology?
The arrangement is too meticulous to be happenstance. There is a swath of red cloth covering the shelf. Pictures of lost loved ones surround the icons on the shelf beneath the aquarium, symmetrically placed and perfectly in balance.
But it isn't until I examine the portrait in the center that I understand. This is all about Feng Shui. I read about it in a magazine only recently. It is his relationship corner. The color red, and a matched pair of objects, lending subconscious support to his emotional inner life. I sense no desperation in the placement and variety of objects here. If anything, I feel tranquility.
The portrait in the center tells a story I've ceased denying: A pair of storks, framing the Chinese ideogram signifying love. And beneath it the words, "Nourishing Partnership". I recognize the print.
I actually considered purchasing a copy of that print myself when I found it in a New Age catalog a few weeks ago. The catalog rests, together with the most recent edition of the Journal of Forensic Science and Science & Justice, atop my commode. I leaf through its pages from time to time and think of Missy. How easy it would have been to shop for her from that catalog. Scores of chakra-toned trinkets, crystals and whatnot adorn its colorful pages. Now I understand what appeal it could have to Mulder.
Well, aside from the "Nude Yoga" tape it offers.
His timing is remarkable as always, for he chooses this instant to enter the room. I look up at him for a moment, and he must see the question in my eyes as he approaches.
Is this when it happens? Does it happen in an instant? Perhaps my impatience is winning out. I have waited for years to see him open his eyes and turn to me, unafraid and self-assured, and show me his progression from child to man. I have seen evidence of it in the meticulous construction of this little collection of symbols, but I want so much more than this.
I have longed to see peace behind his eyes, a quiet acceptance of the circumstances of his life, free from doubt or feelings of guilt or inadequacy. I have wanted more than nearly anything else to watch him move through his life with assurance, comfort and ease. Does he know that I am waiting for this?
I am here, and he cannot pretend I haven't seen this shrine.
He crouches down beside me and in one practiced motion, blows out the candle and switches off the fountain. He turns to look at me, and in the reflected light of the aquarium he appears calm. Then, clearly aware of my scrutiny, he smirks self-consciously.
"Just covering the spiritual bases."
"Mm," I reply. His humor is intact, but what of his maturity?
Oh for heaven's sake, what of mine? If had been truly mature, I would have simply asked him. I would not have waited for him to be the one to speak. Of course he's on edge. I've done nothing to assure him that any change would be welcome.
Perhaps he's already there, all grown up and content, and I'm the one who has yet to catch up.
I'm sure I should be concerned about this sudden revelation that I might be less developed than I'd assumed, but inexplicably, I'm not. Maybe it's simply a matter of the difference between "childish" and "child-like". Over the past few years, I've felt increasingly old, older than my years.
At the moment, with Mulder's serene smile hovering so near to my own, a quiet cloud of ease surrounding us, maturity has little appeal.
"You know, Mulder," I bait as he draws me up with him and ushers me out the door, "this reminds me of the story about the Tibetan lama and the hot dog vendor."
"Heard it," he teases, closing the door behind us.
=====
End
NOTES (& punchline, & picture links):
Just in case you're the last person in the world to hear the joke, the lama goes to the vendor and recites the title of this story. Ba-doom-ching.
Thanks to Benjamin Hoff for his wonderful "The Tao of Pooh", which was my first exposure to both Taoism and the story of "The Vinegar Tasters". If you'd like to see a picture of "The Vinegar Tasters", go here.
And if you'd like to get up close and personal with the "Nourishing Partnership" print, check it out at the Pyramid Collection website.
My Nourishing Partner happens to have a copy of the print, and I'm pleased to report that through ups and downs, we're still friends. So it must work.
