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It was a cold, windy, and very dry early spring day when I arrived in Barstow,
California, to eat lunch at Coco's restaurant before I continued my drive
from Arizona through the vast desert to Los Angeles. I was hungry, yet,
being in my late fifties, I knew better than to indulge in too many fat-laden
foods. I had already gained fifteen pounds over my usual weight during
the last three years. The blubber that rolls over my belt is shocking,
and the 34" waist that I still yearn to reachieve had been left in a ghost
closet. I ordered tuna without mayonnaise and some hard-boiled eggs with
sliced tomatoes.
My eyes looked up from a Jungian book I had been reading while waiting for my order. In walked an early-thirties-looking man who must have weighed at least 300 pounds. He was perspiring and breathless as he walked through the restaurant. He had to waddle, and his pant legs still scraped together audibly as he passed my booth. Everybody looked at him, their looks preceded by whispers or eye signals. I wondered, "How could anybody let himself go like that?" I was only too happy now with my small and not-too-noticeable roll. I could feel his humiliation and self-consciousness as he plummeted and plopped himself down into the booth behind me. "I am amazed it held his weight," I thought as I self-righteously bit into a small hard-boiled egg. Amazing images of the dismembering of the booth with me participating in the collapse appeared in my awareness. As he was so large, I knew we would be awkwardly intertwined should the wood give way.
"Oh God, save me from such a plight" were my last thoughts on the matter when, on having a bite of plain tuna, I happened to glance toward the entrance to see a most angelic five-year-old girl excitedly open the door and start to run with her mother in tow, letting out a wonderfully high-pitched, intense greeting. "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" she yelled. What felt like the beginning of a big California earthquake startled me. As I turned to investigate possible causes, the little girl ran past me. Her father had stood up . . . all 300 pounds worth . . . to catch her in his arms. His face was radiant as he poured out an amazing and deeply moving amount of love into his daughter's small and lean body, for she was obviously the delight of his life. "I love you, Daddy. I love you, Daddy," she squealed as she kissed him many, many times.
I returned to my lunch. Surveying through tear-filled eyes the asceticism reflected on my plate, I thought to myself, "There it is again. The resolution to the shadow is Unconditional Love." I called the waitress over and ordered more food.
A Radiance of Love,
