After another stressful week, I was grateful that my 8th grader didn't have school today, because it afforded me some much-needed decompression time. We spent the morning completing the assembly of his new-at-Christmas game table that was so challenging to put together we had to wait until my friend could come back over and help us, which she was nice enough to do this morning.
Then we headed out for an afternoon at the movies with one of my son's friends in tow. It was our intention to see The Desolation of Smaug, the second in the trilogy of Hobbit movies, but we arrived to learn that we had missed it by a day. I was pretty intent on the big screen portion of my decompression time, so we chose what we hoped was the better of the two movies about to start: Ride Along.
I think I enjoyed the movie more than the boys did. Maybe it's my thing for Ice Cube -- such a beautiful man -- or maybe it's the fact that I was so ready to get lost in something -- anything -- other than work. I'm not sure. I do know there were some pretty uncomfortable moments when the flick's focus was sex.
After the movie, I dropped the boys off at my babydaddy's and headed home to get ready for a run. On my run -- my really, really cold run -- I was thinking about how perplexing sex can be for a young person. On the one hand, they are exposed to people who are obsessed with it, so they have to think it can be pretty great; on the other, it's uncomfortable and embarrassing when it comes up around one's parents. I hope to be a parent who can help sort that out that quagmire -- or at the very least -- not confound it with my own actions as my parents did.
My plan for myself when I got back from running was to do the rest of my Ashtanga practice -- I'd done my sun salutes before heading out -- but I just didn't feel like it once I settled onto my mat. As it often does when my kids first go back to their Dad's, my house felt quiet and empty and I felt the need to fill it with sound. I decided to search the Artist Specials portion of Slacker for something to keep me company, and in keeping with the feel from the movie I saw today, I settled on a Whitney Houston tribute.
Wasn't long before this song came on:
I'll hold you and touch you and make you my woman
I'll give you my love with sweet surrender
Tonight our hearts will beat as one
And I will hold you, touch you
And make you my woman tonight
Settled in my comfy living room, I would've given just about anything to be held, but I had to settle for a phone call -- not insignificant -- but not the same as being able to look into my lover's eyes:
There's something in your eyes I see
A pure and simple honesty
Hold me in your arms tonight
Fill my life with pleasure
Let's not waste this precious time
This moment's ours to treasure
Hold me in your arms tonight
We'll make it last forever
When the morning sun appears
We'll find our way together
I believe you when you say that you love me
Know that I won't take you for granted
Tonight the magic has begun
So won't you hold me, touch me
Make me your woman tonight
One of these days, he will. I just know it...
Friday, January 31, 2014
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
And She Was
Because it's been so dang cold lately, I've been spending more time in my car than on my bike, and that's not a happy thing for me. But in the car, I've been listening to a book on CD, Imagine by Jonah Lehrer. And yesterday the chapter I was listening to was talking about David Byrne and his fanatical devotion to his bicycle. Byrne talked about his experience of cycling everywhere, saying he was more in tune with the city around him on his bike. That he could hear life better.
I couldn't agree more. And so, with the temperatures just barely above zero this morning, I plopped my bad ass on my bike and road to work. As I pedaled, I thought about David Byrne and the Talking Heads, and this was the song that started to play internally:
And she was lying in the grass
And she could hear the highway breathing
And she could see a nearby factory
She's making sure she is not dreaming
See the lights of a neighbor's house
Now she's starting to rise
Take a minute to concentrate
And she opens up her eyes
The world was moving and she was right there with it (and she was)
The world was moving she was floating above it (and she was) and she was
Yes she (er, I) was, this morning, thanks to a little extra motivation from the sunny day and David Byrne:
And she was drifting through the backyard
And she was taking off her dress
And she was moving very slowly
Rising up above the earth
Moving into the universe
Drifting this way and that
Not touching ground at all
Up above the yard
She was glad about it... no doubt about it
She isn't sure where she's gone
No time to think about what to tell them
No time to think about what she's done
And she was
The world was moving and she was right there with it (and she was)
The world was moving she was floating above it (and she was) and she was...
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Let's Dance
It was super cold today, but super sunny too, so I decided to get outside for a run. This was one of the songs Slacker picked out for me, and these lyrics have been stuck on repeat in my head ever since:
If you say run, I'll run with you
If you say hide, we'll hide
Because my love for you
Would break my heart in two
If you should fall
Into my arms
Tremble like a flower
This song is such a classic -- and I love that verse -- but I'm just a little bit disappointed, upon seeing it in black and white, that it doesn't make more sense.
Oh well. I guess sometimes it's not always about the lyrics making perfect sense. Sometimes it's about how it makes you feel. And this song makes me feel good -- bringing me back -- a long way back -- to junior high dances.
Now, it is true that not all my memories of junior high dances are positive. I seem to recall going into the bathroom and kicking the stall door in frustration during one particular low point when I certain boy I set my sights on had the audacity of refusing my offer to follow Bowie's instructions:
Let's dance
Let's dance
Let's dance
For fear your grace should fall
Let's dance
For fear tonight is all
Let's sway
You could look into my eyes
Let's sway
Under the moonlight, this serious moonlight
But hearing this song was always a high point...
If you say run, I'll run with you
If you say hide, we'll hide
Because my love for you
Would break my heart in two
If you should fall
Into my arms
Tremble like a flower
This song is such a classic -- and I love that verse -- but I'm just a little bit disappointed, upon seeing it in black and white, that it doesn't make more sense.
Oh well. I guess sometimes it's not always about the lyrics making perfect sense. Sometimes it's about how it makes you feel. And this song makes me feel good -- bringing me back -- a long way back -- to junior high dances.
Now, it is true that not all my memories of junior high dances are positive. I seem to recall going into the bathroom and kicking the stall door in frustration during one particular low point when I certain boy I set my sights on had the audacity of refusing my offer to follow Bowie's instructions:
Let's dance
Let's dance
Let's dance
For fear your grace should fall
Let's dance
For fear tonight is all
Let's sway
You could look into my eyes
Let's sway
Under the moonlight, this serious moonlight
But hearing this song was always a high point...
Saturday, January 25, 2014
My Song
 |
| Here's me with the retiree! |
At the party, I saw another woman I used to work with, who is also a regular reader of marking my days with music. It was super fun to catch up with her -- she knew all these details about my life -- and was really excited for me that things are back on with my New England love.
The experience brought to mind a Brandi Carlile number -- not my favorite song of hers -- but the title is apropos for a girl who picks a song for many of the days of her life and blogs about them:
Everything I do
Surrounds these pieces of my life
That often change
Or hey, maybe I've changed
Sometimes seeming happy
Can be self-destructive
Even when you're sane
Yeah you're only insane
But don't bother waking me today
Here I am
I'm so young
I know I've been bitter
I've been jaded
I'm alone
Everyday, I bite my tongue
If you only knew
My mind was full of razors
To cut you like a
Word if only sung
But this is my song
This is my song
I live everyday
Like they'll never be a last one
Till they're gone
And they're gone
I'm not too proud to beg for
Your attention and your friendship
And your time
So you could come and get it from now on
Here I am
I'm so young
I know I've been bitter
I've been jaded
I'm alone
Everyday, I bite my tongue
If you only knew
My mind was full of razors
To cut you like a
Word if only sung
This is my song
This is my song
And it's you
It is you,,,
I knew it was him, and he was it. I felt it. But then I had to let go of that, or try to. And I really believe I'm a stronger person for having done so, but it feels really, really good to be affirming that it's him again, and to have my friends and followers sharing in my joy...
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
The Impression that I Get
I'm going through a spell where I wake up at some point in the wee hours, unable to sleep. I really don't like it when this happens, but I've been trying to deal with it by embracing the fact that I'm awake rather than fighting it too hard.
It sucks though, and I gotta say this morning's early wake up wasn't helped by having this song running through my head:
Have you ever been close to tragedy? Or been close to folks who have?
Have you ever felt the pain so powerful, so heavy you collapse?
I've never had to knock on wood, but I know someone who has.
Which makes me wonder if I could.
It makes me wonder if I've never had to knock on wood.
And I'm glad I haven't yet because I'm sure it isn't good,
That's the impression that I get.
Have you ever felt the odds stacked up so high, you need a strength most don't possess?
Or has it come down to do or die? You've got to rise above the rest.
I've never had to knock on wood, but I know someone who has.
It makes me wonder if I could.
It makes me wonder if I've never had to knock on wood.
And I'm glad I haven't yet, because I'm sure it isn't good.
That's the impression that I get.
I'm not a coward, I've just never been tested.
I'd like to think that if I was I would pass.
Look at the tested, and think there but for the grace go I.
Might be a coward, I'm afraid of what I might find out.
I've never had to knock on wood, but I know someone who has.
Which makes me wonder if I could.
It makes me wonder if I've never had to knock on wood.
And I'm glad I haven't yet because I'm sure it isn't good.
That's the impression that I get.
Never have, I'd better knock on wood.
'Cause I know someone who has.
Wonder if I could, it makes me wonder if I've never had to.
I'd better knock on wood 'cause I'm sure it isn't good.
And I'm glad I haven't yet, that's the impression that I get.
I've never really liked this song, or understood what it means, but the impression that I get is that it does somehow seem to resemble the state of my can't-get-back-to-sleep mind...
It sucks though, and I gotta say this morning's early wake up wasn't helped by having this song running through my head:
Have you ever been close to tragedy? Or been close to folks who have?
Have you ever felt the pain so powerful, so heavy you collapse?
I've never had to knock on wood, but I know someone who has.
Which makes me wonder if I could.
It makes me wonder if I've never had to knock on wood.
And I'm glad I haven't yet because I'm sure it isn't good,
That's the impression that I get.
Have you ever felt the odds stacked up so high, you need a strength most don't possess?
Or has it come down to do or die? You've got to rise above the rest.
I've never had to knock on wood, but I know someone who has.
It makes me wonder if I could.
It makes me wonder if I've never had to knock on wood.
And I'm glad I haven't yet, because I'm sure it isn't good.
That's the impression that I get.
I'm not a coward, I've just never been tested.
I'd like to think that if I was I would pass.
Look at the tested, and think there but for the grace go I.
Might be a coward, I'm afraid of what I might find out.
I've never had to knock on wood, but I know someone who has.
Which makes me wonder if I could.
It makes me wonder if I've never had to knock on wood.
And I'm glad I haven't yet because I'm sure it isn't good.
That's the impression that I get.
Never have, I'd better knock on wood.
'Cause I know someone who has.
Wonder if I could, it makes me wonder if I've never had to.
I'd better knock on wood 'cause I'm sure it isn't good.
And I'm glad I haven't yet, that's the impression that I get.
I've never really liked this song, or understood what it means, but the impression that I get is that it does somehow seem to resemble the state of my can't-get-back-to-sleep mind...
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Body Movin'
I set a goal of trying to maintain a base of running 10 miles a week this Winter so that I don't have to start from scratch in the Spring. With the weather a little warmer today, I was able to get off the treadmill and run outside in the sunshine. It sure felt good, and as it often does, Slacker's alternative workout dialed up The Beastie Boys to help get my body movin':
Body movin, body movin
A-1 sound, sound so soothing
Body movin, body movin
We be getting down and you know we're crush groovin.
Now Let me get some action from the back section
We need body rocking not perfection
Let your back bone flip but dont slip a disc
Let your spine unwind just take a risk
I wanna do the freak until the break of dawn
Now, tell me party people is that so wrong
The ship is docking, inter-lockin
And up-rockin electro-shocking
We're getting down computer action
Do the robotic satisfaction
All of y'all get off the wall
Have a ball and get involved with
Body movin, body movin
with the a-1 sound sound so soothing
Body movin, body movin
We be getting down and you know we're crush groovin.
Stand erect, arms down,
Swing left arm big same with the right
Flame on, I'm gone
I'm so sweet like a nice bon bon
Came out rapping when I was born
Mom said rock it 'til the break of dawn
Puttin bodies in motion cause I got the notion
Like Roy Cormier with the coconut lotion
The sound of music makin you insane
You can't explain to people this type of mind frame
Like a bottle of Chateau Neuf Du Pap
I'm fine like wine when I start to rap
We need body rockin not perfection
Let me get some action from the back section
Gotta love these guys, and give them at least a little bit of credit for putting my body in motion, even if my motion was a little different from the one they're calling out for in this song...
Body movin, body movin
A-1 sound, sound so soothing
Body movin, body movin
We be getting down and you know we're crush groovin.
Now Let me get some action from the back section
We need body rocking not perfection
Let your back bone flip but dont slip a disc
Let your spine unwind just take a risk
I wanna do the freak until the break of dawn
Now, tell me party people is that so wrong
The ship is docking, inter-lockin
And up-rockin electro-shocking
We're getting down computer action
Do the robotic satisfaction
All of y'all get off the wall
Have a ball and get involved with
Body movin, body movin
with the a-1 sound sound so soothing
Body movin, body movin
We be getting down and you know we're crush groovin.
Stand erect, arms down,
Swing left arm big same with the right
Flame on, I'm gone
I'm so sweet like a nice bon bon
Came out rapping when I was born
Mom said rock it 'til the break of dawn
Puttin bodies in motion cause I got the notion
Like Roy Cormier with the coconut lotion
The sound of music makin you insane
You can't explain to people this type of mind frame
Like a bottle of Chateau Neuf Du Pap
I'm fine like wine when I start to rap
We need body rockin not perfection
Let me get some action from the back section
Gotta love these guys, and give them at least a little bit of credit for putting my body in motion, even if my motion was a little different from the one they're calling out for in this song...
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Walking After You
With all the snow flurries lately, I've been doing my share of shoveling, and I often listen to Slacker while I shovel. Today when I went to turn it on, they had a top 33 Foo Fighters countdown in honor of that sexy frontman Dave Grohl's January birthday.
I had never heard this song before, but it sure is lovely:
Tonight I'm tangled in my blanket of clouds
dreaming aloud
things just won't do without you
matter of fact
I'm on your back
I certainly went through a separation that wouldn't do for me this summer/fall. But on his back? Nah.
if you walk out on me
I'm walking after you
Walking after him? Nah. I wanted to, but I knew that he needed to go, and that if everything I felt about us turned out to be true, he'd come back:
if you'd accept surrender
I'll give up some more
weren't you adored
I cannot be without you
matter of fact
I'm on your back
if you walk out on me
I'm walking after you
another heart cracked
in two
I'm on your back
I'm not gonna lie. I can't, really, because my blog chronicles the story of my heartbreak. My heart felt like it was cracked in two. It had some healing to do, no question. Some healing from old wounds. Some healing from new ones. And I'm still going to need to heal from that separation.
So far though, that healing seems to be happening more rapidly by embracing the love again. The love that never went anywhere.
Turns out, I didn't need to be on his back, 'cause I was in his heart. The whole time. Looking back on it now, I might've just trusted that would be the case. Because part of me knew it. But I was afraid. Afraid that if I trusted and lost, it would hurt more.
In hindsight, I don't really think it works that way, but I also wonder: if I hadn't left a space for the possibility that we weren't meant to be, would he have had the space he needed to arrive at the conclusion that we are? Methinks not.
A friend of mine said to me that she thinks if she'd gotten a phone call six months after she'd told her boyfriend what she needed and he'd chosen what appeared to be the opposite of giving it to her, she would have been tempted to tell him she'd moved on.
"Yeah," I said. "And if that had been true for me, I probably would've said that. But it wasn't." And it isn't...
I had never heard this song before, but it sure is lovely:
Tonight I'm tangled in my blanket of clouds
dreaming aloud
things just won't do without you
matter of fact
I'm on your back
I certainly went through a separation that wouldn't do for me this summer/fall. But on his back? Nah.
if you walk out on me
I'm walking after you
Walking after him? Nah. I wanted to, but I knew that he needed to go, and that if everything I felt about us turned out to be true, he'd come back:
if you'd accept surrender
I'll give up some more
weren't you adored
I cannot be without you
matter of fact
I'm on your back
if you walk out on me
I'm walking after you
another heart cracked
in two
I'm on your back
I'm not gonna lie. I can't, really, because my blog chronicles the story of my heartbreak. My heart felt like it was cracked in two. It had some healing to do, no question. Some healing from old wounds. Some healing from new ones. And I'm still going to need to heal from that separation.
So far though, that healing seems to be happening more rapidly by embracing the love again. The love that never went anywhere.
Turns out, I didn't need to be on his back, 'cause I was in his heart. The whole time. Looking back on it now, I might've just trusted that would be the case. Because part of me knew it. But I was afraid. Afraid that if I trusted and lost, it would hurt more.
In hindsight, I don't really think it works that way, but I also wonder: if I hadn't left a space for the possibility that we weren't meant to be, would he have had the space he needed to arrive at the conclusion that we are? Methinks not.
A friend of mine said to me that she thinks if she'd gotten a phone call six months after she'd told her boyfriend what she needed and he'd chosen what appeared to be the opposite of giving it to her, she would have been tempted to tell him she'd moved on.
"Yeah," I said. "And if that had been true for me, I probably would've said that. But it wasn't." And it isn't...
Friday, January 17, 2014
Unconditionally
It's always been a little bit of a let down for me when I realize a song that's been playing in my head is Katy Perry's, but the video for this one makes me think twice about that judgement. She seems really exposed here -- no makeup, props, fancy clothes, or flashy bright colors -- and the song has some pretty lovely elements too:
Oh no, did I get too close?
Oh, did I almost see what's really on the inside?
All your insecurities
All the dirty laundry
Never made me blink one time
Unconditional, unconditionally
I will love you unconditionally
There is no fear now
Let go and just be free
I will love you unconditionally
It's a nice idea, this unconditional love of which she sings, but I once heard someone say that the only people deserving of unconditional love are children. Certainly my children were my first teacher, and my kids are in fact the only two people in the world that I have absolutely no fear around loving. And that's a pretty terrific feeling. It's like there's no choice about it, so you just settle right in.
Seems like it makes sense to try to carry that into a romantic relationship to the extent that it is possible. I mean, there's the difference that as adults we all have a responsibility to take care of ourselves in a relationship. But we can still make the choice, and then settle in:
Come just as you are to me
Don't need apologies
Know that you are worthy
I'll take your bad days with your good
Walk through the storm I would
I do it all because I love you, I love you
About three and a half years ago, I met someone whom I discovered I was capable of loving in this way:
Unconditional, unconditionally
I will love you unconditionally
There is no fear now
Let go and just be free
I will love you unconditionally
Or at least mostly in this way, because I'd be lying if I said there was no fear --at any point in our relationship -- but any fear I've had, then or now -- has always been dwarfed by the love.
Time to take some advice from Katy Perry? Call me crazy, but she seems to know what she's talking about it here:
So open up your heart and just let it begin
Open up your heart and just let it begin
Open up your heart and just let it begin
Open up your heart
Acceptance is the key to be
To be truly free
Will you do the same for me?
Oh no, did I get too close?
Oh, did I almost see what's really on the inside?
All your insecurities
All the dirty laundry
Never made me blink one time
Unconditional, unconditionally
I will love you unconditionally
There is no fear now
Let go and just be free
I will love you unconditionally
It's a nice idea, this unconditional love of which she sings, but I once heard someone say that the only people deserving of unconditional love are children. Certainly my children were my first teacher, and my kids are in fact the only two people in the world that I have absolutely no fear around loving. And that's a pretty terrific feeling. It's like there's no choice about it, so you just settle right in.
Seems like it makes sense to try to carry that into a romantic relationship to the extent that it is possible. I mean, there's the difference that as adults we all have a responsibility to take care of ourselves in a relationship. But we can still make the choice, and then settle in:
Come just as you are to me
Don't need apologies
Know that you are worthy
I'll take your bad days with your good
Walk through the storm I would
I do it all because I love you, I love you
About three and a half years ago, I met someone whom I discovered I was capable of loving in this way:
Unconditional, unconditionally
I will love you unconditionally
There is no fear now
Let go and just be free
I will love you unconditionally
Or at least mostly in this way, because I'd be lying if I said there was no fear --at any point in our relationship -- but any fear I've had, then or now -- has always been dwarfed by the love.
Time to take some advice from Katy Perry? Call me crazy, but she seems to know what she's talking about it here:
So open up your heart and just let it begin
Open up your heart and just let it begin
Open up your heart and just let it begin
Open up your heart
Acceptance is the key to be
To be truly free
Will you do the same for me?
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Breathe (2 am)
When I awoke early this morning, I became aware pretty quickly that my body was in fight or flight mode. I can tell because it feels like I can't breathe properly -- my exhale won't go past the base of my ribcage. (I can also feel that my diaphragm is moving in the wrong direction but that took much longer for me to understand.) I didn't remember any dreams and I didn't wake with any specific thoughts, but it was obvious to me that my body was either experiencing or remembering something that had upset it.
As I lay there, the words to this song started to go through my head, specifically the chorus:
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe
And it occurred to me that although it sounds simple, it can actually be incredibly difficult to follow that advice when you find yourself inhabiting a body that has endured and stored trauma. These trauma come in all shapes and sizes -- and this song mentions a couple with which many of us can relate:
2 AM and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake,
"Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?,
I don't love him. Winter just wasn't my season"
Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes
Like they have any right at all to criticize,
Hypocrites. You're all here for the very same reason
'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, girl.
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe
And then I realized that it is helpful to remember to focus on breathing even when, or maybe especially when, it feels the most difficult. Because until you die, you are breathing, even when it feels difficult or scary, even when it's compromised by fear. And on some level, that can be reassuring all by itself.
There are a bunch of ways I've managed to tune into my body after being so separated for all those years when I was a kid and into early adulthood. Yoga is a powerful tool, and so is Alanon. I went to a meeting last night and heard stories not unlike the one in this next verse:
May he turned 21 on the base at Fort Bliss
"Just a day" he said down to the flask in his fist,
"Ain't been sober, since maybe October of last year."
Here in town you can tell he's been down for a while,
But, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles,
Wanna hold him. Maybe I'll just sing about it.
Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table.
No one can find the rewind button, boys,
So cradle your head in your hands,
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe
There's a light at each end of this tunnel,
You shout 'cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out
And these mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again
If you'd only try turning around.
Yep, there's a lot of pain in the world. We all have ways that we isolate ourselves from one another, but some of us have less awareness around it, and this has a tendency to make it more painful for those around them. Alcohol is certainly not the only means of doing this, but it is one with which I'm intimately familiar and most scared about winding up having to deal with again, just like when I was a kid. That's a real theme around those tables -- people saying geez, I grew up with this, I never wanted this for myself, how did I end up married to an alcoholic?
I feel fortunate not to have gone down that road myself, and I intend to continue to be in the world with increasing levels of consciousness, because I think this is the best way, maybe even the only way, to ensure that I don't slip back into old patterns and wind up in a relationship where I'm using all my energy to try to make someone happy or fix them -- the way I tried to do with my Dad. Guess what? It didn't work then and it won't work now, because that's not how it works. All I can do is stay awake myself.
Yesterday in the car my daughter and I were discussing the Ghandi quote that we have on our fridge: "Be the change you want to see in the world." My choosing consciousness over numbing and opening my heart over isolating are probably two of the most important ways for me to be the change.
Because then, when I wake up in panic mode for no apparent reason, I can just be with it. I can get up and practice yoga, which I'm about to do. And I can write about it, both in my blog:
2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to
...and in a memoir, which I think would go further toward achieving what Anna talking about here: maybe if I get it all down on paper, it won't be inside of me, at least not in the same way. But there's definitely a scary element of exposure that I have to grapple with every time I try to write it.
Thank goodness not being able to breathe properly and feeling scared are now the exception and not the rule for me. It really raises the stakes for me to get out into the world (by teaching yoga, by writing) and see if I can't help others figure out how to breathe, really, truly breathe:
But you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand.
and breathe, just breathe
woah breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe.
As I lay there, the words to this song started to go through my head, specifically the chorus:
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe
And it occurred to me that although it sounds simple, it can actually be incredibly difficult to follow that advice when you find yourself inhabiting a body that has endured and stored trauma. These trauma come in all shapes and sizes -- and this song mentions a couple with which many of us can relate:
2 AM and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake,
"Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?,
I don't love him. Winter just wasn't my season"
Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes
Like they have any right at all to criticize,
Hypocrites. You're all here for the very same reason
'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, girl.
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe
And then I realized that it is helpful to remember to focus on breathing even when, or maybe especially when, it feels the most difficult. Because until you die, you are breathing, even when it feels difficult or scary, even when it's compromised by fear. And on some level, that can be reassuring all by itself.
There are a bunch of ways I've managed to tune into my body after being so separated for all those years when I was a kid and into early adulthood. Yoga is a powerful tool, and so is Alanon. I went to a meeting last night and heard stories not unlike the one in this next verse:
May he turned 21 on the base at Fort Bliss
"Just a day" he said down to the flask in his fist,
"Ain't been sober, since maybe October of last year."
Here in town you can tell he's been down for a while,
But, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles,
Wanna hold him. Maybe I'll just sing about it.
Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table.
No one can find the rewind button, boys,
So cradle your head in your hands,
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe
There's a light at each end of this tunnel,
You shout 'cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out
And these mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again
If you'd only try turning around.
Yep, there's a lot of pain in the world. We all have ways that we isolate ourselves from one another, but some of us have less awareness around it, and this has a tendency to make it more painful for those around them. Alcohol is certainly not the only means of doing this, but it is one with which I'm intimately familiar and most scared about winding up having to deal with again, just like when I was a kid. That's a real theme around those tables -- people saying geez, I grew up with this, I never wanted this for myself, how did I end up married to an alcoholic?
I feel fortunate not to have gone down that road myself, and I intend to continue to be in the world with increasing levels of consciousness, because I think this is the best way, maybe even the only way, to ensure that I don't slip back into old patterns and wind up in a relationship where I'm using all my energy to try to make someone happy or fix them -- the way I tried to do with my Dad. Guess what? It didn't work then and it won't work now, because that's not how it works. All I can do is stay awake myself.
Yesterday in the car my daughter and I were discussing the Ghandi quote that we have on our fridge: "Be the change you want to see in the world." My choosing consciousness over numbing and opening my heart over isolating are probably two of the most important ways for me to be the change.
Because then, when I wake up in panic mode for no apparent reason, I can just be with it. I can get up and practice yoga, which I'm about to do. And I can write about it, both in my blog:
2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to
...and in a memoir, which I think would go further toward achieving what Anna talking about here: maybe if I get it all down on paper, it won't be inside of me, at least not in the same way. But there's definitely a scary element of exposure that I have to grapple with every time I try to write it.
Thank goodness not being able to breathe properly and feeling scared are now the exception and not the rule for me. It really raises the stakes for me to get out into the world (by teaching yoga, by writing) and see if I can't help others figure out how to breathe, really, truly breathe:
But you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand.
and breathe, just breathe
woah breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Biggest Part of Me
I woke up a little too early for my taste this morning. I'd had a dream, or a series of them, that were pretty strange and seemed to be about me in another life. My kids and I often talk about our dreams, and I was trying to imagine telling them that in my dreams last night, I wasn't a Mom.
That's when my internal ipod decided to play this number:
(Forever)
Got a feelin' that forever
(Together)
We are gonna stay together
(Forever)
For me there's nothin' better
You're biggest part of me
They really are, and yet, sometimes I think it's healthy to recognize that they aren't all of me, especially as day 9 of a 9 day stint of single parenting is dawning. We've done really well together overall, but it's hard to find time to take care of myself in the midst of that kind of stretch, especially when a pulled muscle makes it impossible for me to do my regular yoga practice or go to my fitness classes.
Even so, I'm really grateful to be a Mom. No one has taught me more about love than my kids:
(Sunrise)
There's a new sun arisin'
(In your eyes)
I can see a new horizon
(Realize)
That will keep me realizin'
You're the biggest part of me
When you grow up like I did, with a confusing set of messages from your parents about love and the instinct to protect yourself from rather than seek shelter with a potential romantic partner, it's when those babies come that you, or at least I, got a crash course in what it really means to love someone. It's big and it's beautiful and it's amazing and it's overwhelming and it can also be a bit scary.
In the best case scenario, one can then take that understanding of love and seek something that resembles it in a romantic partner. And I feel like I really did that, the last time around:
(Stay the night)
Need your lovin' here beside me
(Shine the light)
Need you close enough to guide me
(All my life)
I've been hopin' you would find me
You're the biggest part of me
It doesn't even feel like a contradiction that now, the biggest part of me includes my kids but it also includes my capacity to love and be loved by a man. The latter does, however, feel more fraught with peril (as a woman I knew in my 20s used to say), especially after my experience over the last six months.
Without really knowing I was doing it, I've followed Ambrosia's advice in this song -- I just have to trust them that it's going to work out the way they say it will:
Make a wish, baby
(Wish and it will come true)
Well and I will make it come true
Make a list, baby
(Make a list of the things for you)
Of the things I'll do for you
I've made a list. And I've made a wish.
And any day now, I'd like to hear this:
Ain't no risk now
Let my love rain down on you
So we could wash away the past
So that we may start anew
No risk. Wouldn't that be nice? I know that's not possible, but I also know it's my job to minimize the risk by making sure my heart, soul, brain and body get to weigh in on next steps. I think that's about all I can do:
(Rainbow)
Risin' over my shoulder
(Love flows)
Gettin' better as we're older
(All I know)
All I want to do is hold her
She's the life that breathes in me
I know my rainbow's coming. In the meantime, I'm gonna savor the fact that I've weathered the storm as well as I have, and I'm feeling happier and more capable of the most important job I've been given on this Earth -- being a Mama:
(Forever)
Got a feelin' that forever
(Together)
We are gonna stay together
(Forever)
For me there's nothin' better
You're biggest part of me
That's when my internal ipod decided to play this number:
(Forever)
Got a feelin' that forever
(Together)
We are gonna stay together
(Forever)
For me there's nothin' better
You're biggest part of me
They really are, and yet, sometimes I think it's healthy to recognize that they aren't all of me, especially as day 9 of a 9 day stint of single parenting is dawning. We've done really well together overall, but it's hard to find time to take care of myself in the midst of that kind of stretch, especially when a pulled muscle makes it impossible for me to do my regular yoga practice or go to my fitness classes.
Even so, I'm really grateful to be a Mom. No one has taught me more about love than my kids:
(Sunrise)
There's a new sun arisin'
(In your eyes)
I can see a new horizon
(Realize)
That will keep me realizin'
You're the biggest part of me
When you grow up like I did, with a confusing set of messages from your parents about love and the instinct to protect yourself from rather than seek shelter with a potential romantic partner, it's when those babies come that you, or at least I, got a crash course in what it really means to love someone. It's big and it's beautiful and it's amazing and it's overwhelming and it can also be a bit scary.
In the best case scenario, one can then take that understanding of love and seek something that resembles it in a romantic partner. And I feel like I really did that, the last time around:
(Stay the night)
Need your lovin' here beside me
(Shine the light)
Need you close enough to guide me
(All my life)
I've been hopin' you would find me
You're the biggest part of me
It doesn't even feel like a contradiction that now, the biggest part of me includes my kids but it also includes my capacity to love and be loved by a man. The latter does, however, feel more fraught with peril (as a woman I knew in my 20s used to say), especially after my experience over the last six months.
Without really knowing I was doing it, I've followed Ambrosia's advice in this song -- I just have to trust them that it's going to work out the way they say it will:
Make a wish, baby
(Wish and it will come true)
Well and I will make it come true
Make a list, baby
(Make a list of the things for you)
Of the things I'll do for you
I've made a list. And I've made a wish.
And any day now, I'd like to hear this:
Ain't no risk now
Let my love rain down on you
So we could wash away the past
So that we may start anew
No risk. Wouldn't that be nice? I know that's not possible, but I also know it's my job to minimize the risk by making sure my heart, soul, brain and body get to weigh in on next steps. I think that's about all I can do:
(Rainbow)
Risin' over my shoulder
(Love flows)
Gettin' better as we're older
(All I know)
All I want to do is hold her
She's the life that breathes in me
I know my rainbow's coming. In the meantime, I'm gonna savor the fact that I've weathered the storm as well as I have, and I'm feeling happier and more capable of the most important job I've been given on this Earth -- being a Mama:
(Forever)
Got a feelin' that forever
(Together)
We are gonna stay together
(Forever)
For me there's nothin' better
You're biggest part of me
Saturday, January 11, 2014
Sweet Jane
Here's another number from the CD I popped in on my way to work yesterday:
Anyone who's ever had a heart
Wouldn't turn around and break it
and anyone who's ever played a part
Wouldn't turn around and hate it
I keep hearing the chorus in my head, over and over:
Sweet Jane, sweet Jane
Sweet, sweet Jane
My middle name is Jane, but I didn't much like the name until I read Jane Eyre. That book helped me embrace it, and now the Cowboy Junkies are taking me a little further down that road:
Anyone who's ever had a dream
Anyone who's ever played a part
Anyone who's ever been lonely
and anyone who's ever split apart
Yep, I have. This (Sarah) Jane has:
Sweet Jane, sweet Jane
Sweet, sweet Jane
Heavenly widened roses
seem to whisper to me when you smile
Heavenly widened roses
seem to whisper to me when you smile
Speaking of embracing yourself and where you are in your life, the Modern Love published the week before last has some particularly good things to say about that, and about love, of course. I've now submitted two columns to them, and both have been rejected. I guess I still don't know what my love story is about? I definitely don't know how it ends.
La la la la, la la la, etc...
Only that I'm gonna be somebody's:
Sweet (Sarah) Jane
Sweet, sweet Jane...
Anyone who's ever had a heart
Wouldn't turn around and break it
and anyone who's ever played a part
Wouldn't turn around and hate it
I keep hearing the chorus in my head, over and over:
Sweet Jane, sweet Jane
Sweet, sweet Jane
My middle name is Jane, but I didn't much like the name until I read Jane Eyre. That book helped me embrace it, and now the Cowboy Junkies are taking me a little further down that road:
Anyone who's ever had a dream
Anyone who's ever played a part
Anyone who's ever been lonely
and anyone who's ever split apart
Yep, I have. This (Sarah) Jane has:
Sweet Jane, sweet Jane
Sweet, sweet Jane
Heavenly widened roses
seem to whisper to me when you smile
Heavenly widened roses
seem to whisper to me when you smile
Speaking of embracing yourself and where you are in your life, the Modern Love published the week before last has some particularly good things to say about that, and about love, of course. I've now submitted two columns to them, and both have been rejected. I guess I still don't know what my love story is about? I definitely don't know how it ends.
La la la la, la la la, etc...
Only that I'm gonna be somebody's:
Sweet (Sarah) Jane
Sweet, sweet Jane...
Friday, January 10, 2014
Romeo and Juliet
I was in need of a sing-a-long number on my way to work this morning, so I got out an old CD mix and stumbled onto one of my all time favorite songs about heartbreak:
Love struck Romeo
Sings the streets a serenade
He's layin' everybody low
He's got a love song that he made
Well he finds a convenient street light
And he steps out of the shade and says something like
"You and me babe how about it?"
Juliet says, "Hey it's Romeo
You nearly gave me a heart attack yeah well"
He's underneath my window now she's singin'
"Hey la my boyfriend's back
You shouldn't come around here
Singin' up to people like that
Oh anyway, what you gonna do about it?"
Oh Juliet the dice were loaded from the start
And I bet
And you exploded into my heart
And I forget, I forget the movie song
When you gonna realize?
It was just that the time was wrong
Julie
For me there's something particularly cruel about the idea that love is right but the timing is wrong, but lucky for me, my favorite verse to belt out is up next:
We both come up on different streets
And they were both streets of shame
They're both dirty both mean
And yes even our dreams were the same
But I dreamed your dream for you
And now your dream is real so tell me honey
Now how can you look at me as
If I were just another one of your deals?
Oh, I used to scream that line when I was a young co-ed, and I'm pleased to report it was just as satisfying as a forty-something soccer Mom:
Now you can fall for chains of silver
And you can fall for chains of gold
You know you, you fall for pretty strangers
And the promises since they hold
Well you promised me everything
And then you, and then you promised me thick and thin
And now you just turn away and say
"Romeo I think I used to have a scene with him"
Oh Juliet when we made love you used to cry
You said, "I love you like the stars above
I'm gonna love you till I die"
There's a place for us, I know you know this song
Now when you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong?
Julie I'm so in love
So in love yeah
Somehow, just because I read about it happening in a high school English class, I didn't really believe that when you love someone like the stars above, the timing might still be wrong:
But I can't do the talk
Like they talk on my TV screen
I can't do a love song
Not the way you sung it to me
I can't do anything
But I would do anything for you, oh no
I can't do anything
Except be in love with you
Yeah now all I do is miss you
And the way it used to be
And all, and all I do is keep the beat
I keep bad, bad company
And all I do is kiss you
Through the bars of this rhyme
When Julie I'd do the stars with you
Anytime
Then again, I didn't really think you could love someone that much, and now I know you can.
Thanks IG, for this fabulously satisfying song about a big, big love that wasn't fully realized on the material plane. Just in case that's how it goes down for me, I'm glad to know you and your song are here for me...
Love struck Romeo
Sings the streets a serenade
He's layin' everybody low
He's got a love song that he made
Well he finds a convenient street light
And he steps out of the shade and says something like
"You and me babe how about it?"
Juliet says, "Hey it's Romeo
You nearly gave me a heart attack yeah well"
He's underneath my window now she's singin'
"Hey la my boyfriend's back
You shouldn't come around here
Singin' up to people like that
Oh anyway, what you gonna do about it?"
Oh Juliet the dice were loaded from the start
And I bet
And you exploded into my heart
And I forget, I forget the movie song
When you gonna realize?
It was just that the time was wrong
Julie
For me there's something particularly cruel about the idea that love is right but the timing is wrong, but lucky for me, my favorite verse to belt out is up next:
We both come up on different streets
And they were both streets of shame
They're both dirty both mean
And yes even our dreams were the same
But I dreamed your dream for you
And now your dream is real so tell me honey
Now how can you look at me as
If I were just another one of your deals?
Oh, I used to scream that line when I was a young co-ed, and I'm pleased to report it was just as satisfying as a forty-something soccer Mom:
Now you can fall for chains of silver
And you can fall for chains of gold
You know you, you fall for pretty strangers
And the promises since they hold
Well you promised me everything
And then you, and then you promised me thick and thin
And now you just turn away and say
"Romeo I think I used to have a scene with him"
Oh Juliet when we made love you used to cry
You said, "I love you like the stars above
I'm gonna love you till I die"
There's a place for us, I know you know this song
Now when you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong?
Julie I'm so in love
So in love yeah
Somehow, just because I read about it happening in a high school English class, I didn't really believe that when you love someone like the stars above, the timing might still be wrong:
But I can't do the talk
Like they talk on my TV screen
I can't do a love song
Not the way you sung it to me
I can't do anything
But I would do anything for you, oh no
I can't do anything
Except be in love with you
Yeah now all I do is miss you
And the way it used to be
And all, and all I do is keep the beat
I keep bad, bad company
And all I do is kiss you
Through the bars of this rhyme
When Julie I'd do the stars with you
Anytime
Then again, I didn't really think you could love someone that much, and now I know you can.
Thanks IG, for this fabulously satisfying song about a big, big love that wasn't fully realized on the material plane. Just in case that's how it goes down for me, I'm glad to know you and your song are here for me...
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Wake Me Up
I heard this song on the radio today:
Feeling my way through the darkness
Guided by a beating heart
I can't tell where the journey will end
But I know where to start
They tell me I'm too young to understand
They say I'm caught up in a dream
Well life will pass me by if I don't open up my eyes
Well that's fine by me
So wake me up when it's all over
When I'm wiser and I'm older
All this time I was finding myself
And I didn't know I was lost
...and it reminded me of two things:
1) I am wiser, I am older. There's no more time to waste. The time to be awake is now; and
2) My daughter saying, as Christmas break drew to a close, that she wished we could just build a time machine, and get in it and go to Mexico (which we're doing in April) and then to the Galapagos (which they're doing in July with their Dad) and then to Maine (which we're hoping to do this summer). I know it sucks when vacations come to a close, but I feel like she's pretty young to be living for vacations.
She's having a rough year at school, and it hasn't been easy on any of us, but I'm trying to just be with it, because:
I tried carrying the weight of the world
But I only have two hands...
Feeling my way through the darkness
Guided by a beating heart
I can't tell where the journey will end
But I know where to start
They tell me I'm too young to understand
They say I'm caught up in a dream
Well life will pass me by if I don't open up my eyes
Well that's fine by me
So wake me up when it's all over
When I'm wiser and I'm older
All this time I was finding myself
And I didn't know I was lost
...and it reminded me of two things:
1) I am wiser, I am older. There's no more time to waste. The time to be awake is now; and
2) My daughter saying, as Christmas break drew to a close, that she wished we could just build a time machine, and get in it and go to Mexico (which we're doing in April) and then to the Galapagos (which they're doing in July with their Dad) and then to Maine (which we're hoping to do this summer). I know it sucks when vacations come to a close, but I feel like she's pretty young to be living for vacations.
She's having a rough year at school, and it hasn't been easy on any of us, but I'm trying to just be with it, because:
I tried carrying the weight of the world
But I only have two hands...
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Dear Mama
My kids were off school again today because of the severe cold. It was kind of nice to be able to wake up late and have a leisurely breakfast, even if it was like day 17 of that since we're right on the heels of winter break.
My son requested french toast but my daughter wasn't sure what she wanted. I suggested cinnamon toast and she agreed. After breakfast, she came over to where I was sitting at the table, put down her plate, kissed my forehead, and said:
"Thanks for breakfast, Mom. It was delicious."
Awwww! Does it get any better?
Being a Mom can sometimes feel like a thankless job, which is why moments like that are soooo sweet. I love that Tupac, whose own mother was released from prison just weeks before he was born, wrote a song to help us Moms know we're appreciated:
There's no way I can pay you back
But the plan is to show you that I understand
You are appreciated
Lady...
Don't cha know we love ya? Sweet lady
Dear mama
Place no one above ya, sweet lady
You are appreciated
Don't cha know we love ya?
I do indeed, and not just when they express it.
I'm sure sorry Tupac's Mama had to lose him so young, but I bet it meant a lot to her that he wrote this song before he died. This is my favorite verse:
Pour out some liquor and I reminsce, cause through the drama
I can always depend on my mama
And when it seems that I'm hopeless
You say the words that can get me back in focus
When I was sick as a little kid
To keep me happy there's no limit to the things you did
And all my childhood memories
Are full of all the sweet things you did for me
And even though I act craaazy
I gotta thank the Lord that you made me
There are no words that can express how I feel
You never kept a secret, always stayed real
And I appreciate, how you raised me
And all the extra love that you gave me
I wish I could take the pain away
If you can make it through the night there's a brighter day
Everything will be alright if ya hold on
It's a struggle everyday, gotta roll on
And there's no way I can pay you back
But my plan is to show you that I understand
You are appreciated
My son requested french toast but my daughter wasn't sure what she wanted. I suggested cinnamon toast and she agreed. After breakfast, she came over to where I was sitting at the table, put down her plate, kissed my forehead, and said:
"Thanks for breakfast, Mom. It was delicious."
Awwww! Does it get any better?
Being a Mom can sometimes feel like a thankless job, which is why moments like that are soooo sweet. I love that Tupac, whose own mother was released from prison just weeks before he was born, wrote a song to help us Moms know we're appreciated:
There's no way I can pay you back
But the plan is to show you that I understand
You are appreciated
Lady...
Don't cha know we love ya? Sweet lady
Dear mama
Place no one above ya, sweet lady
You are appreciated
Don't cha know we love ya?
I do indeed, and not just when they express it.
I'm sure sorry Tupac's Mama had to lose him so young, but I bet it meant a lot to her that he wrote this song before he died. This is my favorite verse:
Pour out some liquor and I reminsce, cause through the drama
I can always depend on my mama
And when it seems that I'm hopeless
You say the words that can get me back in focus
When I was sick as a little kid
To keep me happy there's no limit to the things you did
And all my childhood memories
Are full of all the sweet things you did for me
And even though I act craaazy
I gotta thank the Lord that you made me
There are no words that can express how I feel
You never kept a secret, always stayed real
And I appreciate, how you raised me
And all the extra love that you gave me
I wish I could take the pain away
If you can make it through the night there's a brighter day
Everything will be alright if ya hold on
It's a struggle everyday, gotta roll on
And there's no way I can pay you back
But my plan is to show you that I understand
You are appreciated
Monday, January 6, 2014
Next to Me
I really dig this chick's voice, and yesterday a friend of mine came over who is going through a divorce. She's also contemplating her feelings about a friend who is very different from the man who was her husband for 20 years, but won't be for much longer. I brought up the book "The Five Love Languages" and advised her to read it -- it's such a great guide to who you are and what you want and need in a relationship.
When I heard this song today, I thought how it embodies my two love languages -- physical touch and quality time -- really nicely:
You won’t find him drinking at the table
Rolling dice or staying out ’til three
You won’t ever find him be unfaithful
You will find him, you’ll find him next to me
You won’t find him tryna chase the devil
For money, fame, for power, out of greed
You won’t ever find him where the rest go
You will find him, you’ll find him next to me
Next to me – ooh hooo
Next to me – ooh hooo
Next to me – ooh hooo
You will find him, you’ll find him next to me
When the money’s spent and all my friends have vanished
And I can’t seem to find no help or love for free
I know there’s no need for me to panic
Cause I’ll find him, I’ll find him next to me
When the skies are grey and all the doors are closing
And the rising pressure makes it hard to breathe
When all I need's a hand to stop the tears from falling
I will find him, I’ll find him next to me
Next to me – ooh hooo
Next to me – ooh hooo
Next to me – ooh hooo
I will find him, I’ll find him next to me
When the end has come and buildings falling down fast
When we’ve spoilt the land and dried up all the sea
When everyone has lost their heads around us
You will find him, you’ll find him next to me
Next to me – ooh hooo
Next to me – ooh hooo
Next to me – ooh hooo
You will find him, you’ll find him next to me
There's no one next to me right now, but the Universe has heard me say loud and clear that this is what I want and need. I reckon you will find him next to me soon enough!
When I heard this song today, I thought how it embodies my two love languages -- physical touch and quality time -- really nicely:
You won’t find him drinking at the table
Rolling dice or staying out ’til three
You won’t ever find him be unfaithful
You will find him, you’ll find him next to me
You won’t find him tryna chase the devil
For money, fame, for power, out of greed
You won’t ever find him where the rest go
You will find him, you’ll find him next to me
Next to me – ooh hooo
Next to me – ooh hooo
Next to me – ooh hooo
You will find him, you’ll find him next to me
When the money’s spent and all my friends have vanished
And I can’t seem to find no help or love for free
I know there’s no need for me to panic
Cause I’ll find him, I’ll find him next to me
When the skies are grey and all the doors are closing
And the rising pressure makes it hard to breathe
When all I need's a hand to stop the tears from falling
I will find him, I’ll find him next to me
Next to me – ooh hooo
Next to me – ooh hooo
Next to me – ooh hooo
I will find him, I’ll find him next to me
When the end has come and buildings falling down fast
When we’ve spoilt the land and dried up all the sea
When everyone has lost their heads around us
You will find him, you’ll find him next to me
Next to me – ooh hooo
Next to me – ooh hooo
Next to me – ooh hooo
You will find him, you’ll find him next to me
There's no one next to me right now, but the Universe has heard me say loud and clear that this is what I want and need. I reckon you will find him next to me soon enough!
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Stubborn Love
 |
| My good luck necklace before it broke |
For years, I wore it from time to time, and then took it off again, as I do with all my necklaces. Then sometime this fall, I put the necklace on, and, fully admitting I was in need of a good luck charm, I decided to make a wish and leave it on until it broke off.
I was afraid to wish for what I wanted to wish for, so I made it more generic: I wished that I could finally have the partner I've dreamed of having.
This sounds almost too corny to be true, but I assure you it is. After a conversation this morning with with my departed love, I felt like things were falling into place. I felt buoyed by having access again to my person, and I started to really let myself think about the fact that we might just make it. That I might get to have the partner I've been dreaming of, which is, of course, him.
Crawling into bed this evening, my necklace broke. Could be purely coincidental, but it feels more significant than that.
This song has been running through my head over the past few days, and I haven't really been sure why, but tonight it seems pretty perfect:
So keep your head up, keep your love
Keep your head up, my love [x2]
Keep your head up, keep your love
I reckon that's what we both did over the past six months, to the best of our ability. Tried to keep our heads up even though it didn't feel right to either one of us to be apart. Tried to hold onto the love we'd gained from one another. And I guess we did a pretty good job of that.
But that can't hold a candle to having access again to that love -- even in the space where we're in now where I'm not ready to fully embrace it -- I just plain feel better about the world when I let in the love.
All of which makes me really, really grateful that love is so stubborn; feel really, really lucky; and much cooler than I've ever been about a necklace breaking...
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Be Careful of My Heart
I got a sweet email from an old friend and reader of my blog who suggested that this song would be apropos right now, and I reckon she's right:
You and your sweet smile
You and all your tantalizing ways
You and your honey lips
You and all the sweet things that they say
You and your wild wild ways
One day you just up and walked away
Oh you left me hurting
Yeah he did.
But I can forgive you for that now
You taught me something
Something took me half my life to learn
When you give all yourself away
Just tell them to be careful of your heart
I can forgive him, especially since I feel we both gained something from him leaving, but I am gonna need him to listen up to Tracy's wise words:
Be careful of my heart, heart
Be careful of this heart of mine
Be careful of my heart, heart
It just might break and send some splinters flying
Be careful of my heart, heart
Be careful
Please...
You and your sweet smile
You and all your tantalizing ways
You and your honey lips
You and all the sweet things that they say
You and your wild wild ways
One day you just up and walked away
Oh you left me hurting
Yeah he did.
But I can forgive you for that now
You taught me something
Something took me half my life to learn
When you give all yourself away
Just tell them to be careful of your heart
I can forgive him, especially since I feel we both gained something from him leaving, but I am gonna need him to listen up to Tracy's wise words:
Be careful of my heart, heart
Be careful of this heart of mine
Be careful of my heart, heart
It just might break and send some splinters flying
Be careful of my heart, heart
Be careful
Please...
Friday, January 3, 2014
Say Something
I heard this song for the first time today in my car, and it made me reflect on where I am today and where I've been.
When my (then) boyfriend was getting ready to leave last summer, I told him how much I loved him, how much I believed in him, and I told him that if he ever felt he was able to offer what I was asking him for, to please let me know:
Say something, I'm giving up on you.
I'll be the one, if you want me to.
Anywhere, I would've followed you.
Say something, I'm giving up on you.
He agreed, and then he left. And I began the long grieving process that included grappling with the really difficult feeling that everything I thought I knew to be true might not be true after all:
And I am feeling so small.
It was over my head
I know nothing at all.
I definitely felt small. And over my head:
And I will stumble and fall.
I'm still learning to love
Just starting to crawl.
I chalked it up to the fact that it was the first time I really loved somebody with every part of my being. Maybe I just didn't understand that it was possible to do that and not have it work out, even if you tried everything in your power to make it work:
Say something, I'm giving up on you.
I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you.
Anywhere, I would've followed you.
Say something, I'm giving up on you.
For a while I tried being in touch with him, but then I reached a point where I just couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't keep actively wanting something so much that I couldn't have, even if it seemed like the most unnatural thing in the world to give it up:
And I will swallow my pride.
You're the one that I love
And I'm saying goodbye.
I did say goodbye, and in doing so, I gained access to some deeply held grief about being abandoned and a whole lot of anger about not getting the love I needed -- in my childhood, in my marriage -- and even, as hard as it was to fathom, from the person who allowed me to fully love for the first time:
Say something, I'm giving up on you.
And I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you.
And anywhere, I would have followed you.
Oh-oh-oh-oh say something, I'm giving up on you.
I was sorry I couldn't get to him, but I didn't give up on him. I gave up on needing to tie myself in knots in order to make us work. I gave up on the concept that he was the only person I ever wanted to or could ever love or be loved by in that way.
It sucked, but I did it.
Say something...
And then he did. Say something. He said missed me, loved me, wants to be with me. He said he was willing to work on the things that I'd realized weren't working for me when we were together.
And I felt, well, a lot of things, but most of all, relief: that I can trust myself, my feelings, my body, my intuition. That I know what's up, and I have, the whole time...
When my (then) boyfriend was getting ready to leave last summer, I told him how much I loved him, how much I believed in him, and I told him that if he ever felt he was able to offer what I was asking him for, to please let me know:
Say something, I'm giving up on you.
I'll be the one, if you want me to.
Anywhere, I would've followed you.
Say something, I'm giving up on you.
He agreed, and then he left. And I began the long grieving process that included grappling with the really difficult feeling that everything I thought I knew to be true might not be true after all:
And I am feeling so small.
It was over my head
I know nothing at all.
I definitely felt small. And over my head:
And I will stumble and fall.
I'm still learning to love
Just starting to crawl.
I chalked it up to the fact that it was the first time I really loved somebody with every part of my being. Maybe I just didn't understand that it was possible to do that and not have it work out, even if you tried everything in your power to make it work:
Say something, I'm giving up on you.
I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you.
Anywhere, I would've followed you.
Say something, I'm giving up on you.
For a while I tried being in touch with him, but then I reached a point where I just couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't keep actively wanting something so much that I couldn't have, even if it seemed like the most unnatural thing in the world to give it up:
And I will swallow my pride.
You're the one that I love
And I'm saying goodbye.
I did say goodbye, and in doing so, I gained access to some deeply held grief about being abandoned and a whole lot of anger about not getting the love I needed -- in my childhood, in my marriage -- and even, as hard as it was to fathom, from the person who allowed me to fully love for the first time:
Say something, I'm giving up on you.
And I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you.
And anywhere, I would have followed you.
Oh-oh-oh-oh say something, I'm giving up on you.
I was sorry I couldn't get to him, but I didn't give up on him. I gave up on needing to tie myself in knots in order to make us work. I gave up on the concept that he was the only person I ever wanted to or could ever love or be loved by in that way.
It sucked, but I did it.
Say something...
And then he did. Say something. He said missed me, loved me, wants to be with me. He said he was willing to work on the things that I'd realized weren't working for me when we were together.
And I felt, well, a lot of things, but most of all, relief: that I can trust myself, my feelings, my body, my intuition. That I know what's up, and I have, the whole time...
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Don't Know What You Got (Til It's Gone)
Last Fall, I had it on good authority that I needed to let go entirely of my ex-boyfriend. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, but I did it. And once I got past the first few weeks, it became apparent to me why I needed to do it: It was the only way to break out of the space I was in where the only acceptable outcome was for him to come back and for us to live happily ever after. As long as I needed that to happen in order to be happy, I wasn't in my power, and I wasn't leaving any room for forces that just might know more than I do about what's best for me, for him, and for my kids.
Being back in touch with him isn't as tidy. Presumably, I can hold onto the perspective I gained over the last six months, but doing so under the force of the magnet of our mutual attraction is considerably more difficult. I do have the feeling that there's more potential for growth in another way, through opening myself up to the vulnerabilities that come with really, truly loving someone and having them love you right back. One of the problems we had before was that he wasn't sure about making the commitment to spending our lives together, but he's feeling capable of that now, which makes me cautiously optimistic.
The caution is important, given my experience both during the three years we were together and the six months after he left. I'm committed to looking at the evidence this time. To watching actions rather than hanging on words. To be in reality rather than fantasy. To take it one day at a time.
Contemplating all of this, I heard these headbangers on the radio the other day:
I can't tell ya baby what went wrong
I can't make you feel what you felt
So long ago, I'll let it show
I can't give you back what's been hurt
Heartaches come and go and all that's
left are the words I can't let go
If we take some time to think it over baby
Take some time let me know
If you really wanna go
I love those last three lines, and they're the ones I've been hearing in my mind over and over again the past few days. There's always been something for me about ballads by heavy metal groups. Something about hard livin' dudes getting mushy really does it for me:
Don't know what you got till it's gone
Don't know what it is I did so wrong
Now I know what I got
It's just this song
And it ain't easy to get back
Takes so long
I can't feel the things that cause you pain
I can't clear my heart of your love
It falls like rain, ain't the same
I hear you calling far away
Tearing through my soul I just can't
Take another day, Who's to blame
If we take some time to think it over baby
Take some time let me know
If you really wanna go
Don't know what you got till it's gone
Don't know what it is I did so wrong
Now I know what I got
It's just this song
And it ain't easy to get back
Takes so long
Do you wanna see me beggin' baby
Can't you give me just one more day
Can't you see my heart's been draggin' lately
I've been lookin' for the words to say
Don't know what you got till it's gone
Don't know what it is I did so wrong
Now I know what I got
It's just this song
And it ain't easy to get back
Takes so long
Hard to say how long it will take. So much of it came back in the instant I heard his voice again telling me he now knows what he had and wants it back.
But doing the work, rebuilding the trust, all the while staying open to the possibility that the Universe has other plans for us, that could take a while...
Being back in touch with him isn't as tidy. Presumably, I can hold onto the perspective I gained over the last six months, but doing so under the force of the magnet of our mutual attraction is considerably more difficult. I do have the feeling that there's more potential for growth in another way, through opening myself up to the vulnerabilities that come with really, truly loving someone and having them love you right back. One of the problems we had before was that he wasn't sure about making the commitment to spending our lives together, but he's feeling capable of that now, which makes me cautiously optimistic.
The caution is important, given my experience both during the three years we were together and the six months after he left. I'm committed to looking at the evidence this time. To watching actions rather than hanging on words. To be in reality rather than fantasy. To take it one day at a time.
Contemplating all of this, I heard these headbangers on the radio the other day:
I can't tell ya baby what went wrong
I can't make you feel what you felt
So long ago, I'll let it show
I can't give you back what's been hurt
Heartaches come and go and all that's
left are the words I can't let go
If we take some time to think it over baby
Take some time let me know
If you really wanna go
I love those last three lines, and they're the ones I've been hearing in my mind over and over again the past few days. There's always been something for me about ballads by heavy metal groups. Something about hard livin' dudes getting mushy really does it for me:
Don't know what you got till it's gone
Don't know what it is I did so wrong
Now I know what I got
It's just this song
And it ain't easy to get back
Takes so long
I can't feel the things that cause you pain
I can't clear my heart of your love
It falls like rain, ain't the same
I hear you calling far away
Tearing through my soul I just can't
Take another day, Who's to blame
If we take some time to think it over baby
Take some time let me know
If you really wanna go
Don't know what you got till it's gone
Don't know what it is I did so wrong
Now I know what I got
It's just this song
And it ain't easy to get back
Takes so long
Do you wanna see me beggin' baby
Can't you give me just one more day
Can't you see my heart's been draggin' lately
I've been lookin' for the words to say
Don't know what you got till it's gone
Don't know what it is I did so wrong
Now I know what I got
It's just this song
And it ain't easy to get back
Takes so long
Hard to say how long it will take. So much of it came back in the instant I heard his voice again telling me he now knows what he had and wants it back.
But doing the work, rebuilding the trust, all the while staying open to the possibility that the Universe has other plans for us, that could take a while...
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
This is the New Year
I heard this song a while back on an episode of Glee, and it seems a fitting way to mark the first day of a new year:
Another year you made a promise
Another chance to turn it all around
And do not save this for tomorrow
Embrace the past and you can live for now
And I will give the world to you
I'm feeling a lot of things with a new year on the horizon: open, grateful, raw, sad, scared, empowered, strong. A lot of the same things I felt in 2013. But last year, I had times when I didn't say or do what I really felt, didn't write down what I need to document, didn't use the full range of my voice:
Speak louder than the words before you
And give them meaning no one else has found
The role we play is so important
We are the voices of the underground
And I will give the world to you
Say everything you've always wanted
Be not afraid of who you really are
'Cause in the end we have each other
And that's at least one thing worth living for
And I will give the world to you
This year I'm going to try to do more of those things I'm scared of and just see where it leads. Try not to attach to the prospect of someone giving the world to me, and focus instead, on giving myself to the world:
This is the new year
A new beginning
You made a promise
You are the brightest
We are the voices
This is the new year
We are the voices
This is the new year...
Another year you made a promise
Another chance to turn it all around
And do not save this for tomorrow
Embrace the past and you can live for now
And I will give the world to you
I'm feeling a lot of things with a new year on the horizon: open, grateful, raw, sad, scared, empowered, strong. A lot of the same things I felt in 2013. But last year, I had times when I didn't say or do what I really felt, didn't write down what I need to document, didn't use the full range of my voice:
Speak louder than the words before you
And give them meaning no one else has found
The role we play is so important
We are the voices of the underground
And I will give the world to you
Say everything you've always wanted
Be not afraid of who you really are
'Cause in the end we have each other
And that's at least one thing worth living for
And I will give the world to you
This year I'm going to try to do more of those things I'm scared of and just see where it leads. Try not to attach to the prospect of someone giving the world to me, and focus instead, on giving myself to the world:
This is the new year
A new beginning
You made a promise
You are the brightest
We are the voices
This is the new year
We are the voices
This is the new year...
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