Berkeley Hills Living Jessica Laser (bio) This is not virtue in the current sense of moral rectitude but in the older sense of effectiveness, as when one speaks of the healing virtues of a plant. —alan watts 1 Eliot's window. The glorifiedhallway that served as his room.His bed with one pillow. Another night, it was raining too hardto drive home and his bed had twobecause a woman had visited.Eliot and David talked upstairswhile I slept to the cadenceof their voices through the ceiling.When I woke, I put on my jeans. From his window, I could seethe eucalyptus trees' wildgestures punctuate the fog.The green, the gray, and nothingbeyond it. You could look ator write something like it.Something you could paint. When I woke, I put on Lucinda Williams.Eliot said, Aren't you happyto spend your birthday with me? [End Page 103] I'll remember this with sadness, I thought,because of what a nice moment it was:Lucinda playing, the trees waving, tea,but I remember it now and feel happy. 2 Outside, the air thicker, San Franciscoblinked through the trees. David rolledcigarettes on Berkeley Hills Living.A couple in khakisand cashmere graced the cover. I was practically their neighbor, cometo earn an English PhD, for five yearsof stable health insurance, to makethe two friends I did. I can honestly sayI learned nothing. Everything I learnedin California, I learned from a plant. 3 Cameron and Ari led ceremonyat Cameron's, north of Berkeley.You signed a waiver and, as the sun sankover his alpacas, you drank three cupsof cactus tea, taking turns, each time you'd drink,to pray out loud at an altar they called a highlytechnical machine, able to take from youall that you didn't need. There was a feast after, and instructionin the beginning, where the goodand bad news were always the same.The good and bad news is: Everyoneis innocent. The good and bad news is:There's nothing to fix. How do you know [End Page 104] you're really praying? Because it's arresting.For the writers among us, eloquencewon't be necessary. We're hereto heal, not be Dostoevsky. 4 The English department had fashioned itselfafter the kind of revelation the English departmentcould no longer provide. This revelation waswrought by literature; it involved discomfort,confusion, recognition, surprise. The departmentwouldn't be moved. It got its discomfortfrom critical methodology, found recognitionin new truths made of history. But ceremony had already taught mesomething about history I couldn't forget:everyone messing each other up—theywere all just doing their best. My ancestorsdid more than flee the Tsar, sell used clotheson Maxwell Street. The whole time, they werepraying me into being. That I liveis the sign of their success. 5 Cameron led meditationfrom the altar in the center of the circle.The waning daylight made my eyelids gauzeit could shine through. Think of a timeyou felt unconditionally loved, he said.It doesn't matter who. We spent timeliving in that memory and I weptthe California light back out of my eyes.I had sudden, irrevocable accessto so much love, I thought I might die. [End Page 105] That was how ceremonytaught you to be happy.Before, you thought allhappiness was conditional. 6 After the tea, I couldn't eat.I leaned against a counter,asked Max if he rememberedsomething we once did togetherwith olive oil. He showed me a pictureof his children. Someone passed mebread and I was asked to slice it.I don't know where a knife is.I took a knife out of the indicated drawer.I don't hate the program, I told Michael,who'd asked. It's something I've chosen.Then Michael came up to ask about the program.I don't hate it, I said. I just have to figure out howto be better. How's yours?OK...