Waiting for Autumn by Scott Blum Page A

felt like I should probably already know what Martika was talking about, but she made me feel comfortable about asking questions that Robert would find annoying.
    “Within everyone is both our dark side and our light side. We can’t be fully integrated and balanced without accepting that both are important aspects of being human. People who ignore or try to hide their dark side from themselves or others become quite depressed, or in some cases, much worse. When their darkness finally bubbles up to the surface after it can no longer be contained, some very extreme things can happen.”
    “Like when people yell at you for no reason?”
    “Yes, that—and unfortunately, much, much worse.”
    I let my mind reflect on the nightly news, and I wondered how many tragedies could be averted if people weren’t trying to subvert their shadows.
    “And the gift you’ve been given,” Martika continued, “is to realize that humanity has a collective light side and a collective shadow side that we are all a part of. We are all connected, and you were shown a literal example of this. Yes, your love of Cheryl is a given. But you are also the drunk driver who killed her. And so am I. We are all love, and we are all hate. We are one, with all of our colors.”
    “That’s a bit hard to take.” I was attempting to be as diplomatic as possible while trying to distinguish between my feelings of anger and confusion. There was no way I could imagine taking responsibility for being the drunk driver that took Cheryl away from me.
    “Yes, it is hard to take, Scott. I’m sorry you had to learn this with such a painful lesson. Truly, my heart goes out to you.”
    “So you’re saying that everyone is inherently good?” I asked with a sense of indignation that was difficult to hide. “That seems at odds with Robert’s view.”
    “That’s true,” she laughed, “we don’t agree on everything. And Robert does have more experience than I do with these types of things, so do follow his advice and be wary. But also remember to look for the good in everyone, no matter how hard it is to find. Because when you can help someone heal, you are helping everyone heal.”
    “We are all connected.”
    “Yes, we are.” She paused. “I’m sorry to change the subject, but a friend of mine needs to use the car tomorrow . . .”
    “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll bring it right over.”
    “I don’t need it until tonight. And if you’re up for it, I’m having a small gathering—you could bring the car over tonight and meet some new people.”
    “That sounds fantastic . . . I’ll be there.”
    Martika gave me the details, and I began to get ready to reenter the world for the first time since my Yrekan vision quest.
    I arrived ten minutes early to Martika’s stately country house after putting some gas into her car, and was surprised to find that her party was already in full swing. She answered the door wearing a hand-painted blue and white silk dress and a large white flower in her hair.
    “You look good,” Martika said as she gave me a big hug. “Are you fully recovered?”
    “I think so—thanks for asking.” Martika always seemed to have the right thing to say.
    The inside of the house was decorated with an unusual blend of contemporary and countryfarmhouse sensibilities. The floors looked like the original hardwood planks that had the charm and history of many years of living. And the original wood finishings were accented with dramatic contemporary and Asian-inspired artwork that filled the walls. In the entryway, an imposing creamcolored Buddha greeted the guests. There was something mysterious about the large collage, and as I neared it to get a better look, I was shocked by what I saw.
    “Is this made of cigarettes?”
    “Yes,” Martika said. “A local artist unrolls used cigarettes he gathers from bars around town and collages them to make the most amazing pieces.”
    “Do you smoke?” I was finding it difficult to resolve the