My son and I are reading Running With Scissors together, a memoir about growing up with an alcoholic father and crazy mother. It's a book I've been intending to read for years, but like so many others, it has sat on the shelf. Until now. Because while I don't get a lot of books read these days, I do read aloud to both of my kids, and now that my son is 14, I feel like he can handle this one. I wouldn't want him to read it on his own, but I think reading it with me, where we can talk about what we read, is going to be a learning experience for both of us. Not to mention that it's hilarious.
Although Augusten Burroughs is only six years older than me, there are a number of cultural references I don't understand. It bugs my son, but I insist on googling them so I can see what he is talking about -- like when he mentioned loving Tony Orlando and Dawn -- I'd never heard of them.
Still, there's something familiar about this song:
I'm comin' home, I've done my time
Now I've got to know what is and isn't mine
If you received my letter telling you I'd soon be free
Then you'll know just what to do
If you still want me, if you still want me
Whoa, tie a yellow ribbon round the ole oak tree
It's been three long years, do you still want me?
If I don't see a ribbon round the ole oak tree
I'll stay on the bus, forget about us, put the blame on me
If I don't see a yellow ribbon round the ole oak tree
Bus driver, please look for me
'Cause I couldn't bear to see what I might see
I'm really still in prison and my love, she holds the key
A simple yellow ribbon's what I need to set me free
And I wrote and told her please
Whoa, tie a yellow ribbon round the ole oak tree
It's been three long years, do you still want me?
If I don't see a ribbon round the ole oak tree
I'll stay on the bus, forget about us, put the blame on me
If I don't see a yellow ribbon round the ole oak tree
Now the whole damned bus is cheerin'
And I can't believe I see
A hundred yellow ribbons round the ole oak tree
I'm comin' home
Tie a ribbon round the ole oak tree
Tie a ribbon round the ole oak tree
Tie a ribbon round the ole oak tree
This is a pretty happy tune, and the video is super fun to check out what with the outfits and the hairstyles, but I won't be tying any ribbons around any trees any time soon. Nor am I likely to see any.
What I will be doing, however, is focusing more on myself. My dreams. Not my dreams about love and marriage -- anyone who regularly reads this blog has got to be as tired of me focusing on those as I am.
Nope, for the next few months I'm going to focus on my other dreams -- being a writer -- finding a way to help people in my work -- and trust that by more fully becoming myself, I'll be that much more ready to partner with someone else when the time comes...
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Saturday, July 26, 2014
Budapest
A few days ago I got a message from my first love and forever friend from across the pond. He said he heard this song and immediately thought of me and knew that I would love it. He wasn't wrong:
My house in Budapest
My, my hidden treasure chest,
Golden grand piano
My beautiful Castillo
You
Woh, you
Woh, I'd leave it all
My acres of a land
Th' I hav' achieved
It may be hard for you to,
Stop and believe
But for you
Woh, you
Woh, I'd Leave it all
Woh, for you
Woh, you
Woh, I'd leave it all
Give me one good reason
Why I should never make a change
Baby if you hold me
Then all of this will go away
My many artifacts
The list goes on
If you just say the words
I I'll up and run
To you
Woh, you
Woh, I'd leave it all
Woh, to you
Woh, you
Woh, I'd leave it all
Give me one good reason
Why I should never make a change
Baby if you hold me
Then all of this will go away
My friends and family
They, don't understand
They fear they'd lose so much
If, you take my hand
But, for you
Woh, you
Woh, I'd lose it all
Woh, for you
Woh, you
Woh, I'd lose it all.
Give me one good reason
Why I should never make a change
Baby if you hold me
Then all of this will go away
My house in Budapest
My, my hidden treasure chest,
Golden grand piano
My beautiful castillo
You
Woh, you
Woh, I'd leave it all
Woh, for you
Woh, you
Woh, I'd leave it all
We're past this point in our own relationship where we would think about leaving it all for one another, but it sure is nice to still have such a strong connection and to have that connection be largely communicated through music.
Speaking of communicating through music, my daughter and I biked over to Opera in the Park briefly this evening. The sun was just starting to set, and we climbed up the hill to sit on a cement wall overlooking all the people and listening to the music. It was a beautiful way to end a summer evening...
My house in Budapest
My, my hidden treasure chest,
Golden grand piano
My beautiful Castillo
You
Woh, you
Woh, I'd leave it all
My acres of a land
Th' I hav' achieved
It may be hard for you to,
Stop and believe
But for you
Woh, you
Woh, I'd Leave it all
Woh, for you
Woh, you
Woh, I'd leave it all
Give me one good reason
Why I should never make a change
Baby if you hold me
Then all of this will go away
My many artifacts
The list goes on
If you just say the words
I I'll up and run
To you
Woh, you
Woh, I'd leave it all
Woh, to you
Woh, you
Woh, I'd leave it all
Give me one good reason
Why I should never make a change
Baby if you hold me
Then all of this will go away
My friends and family
They, don't understand
They fear they'd lose so much
If, you take my hand
But, for you
Woh, you
Woh, I'd lose it all
Woh, for you
Woh, you
Woh, I'd lose it all.
Give me one good reason
Why I should never make a change
Baby if you hold me
Then all of this will go away
My house in Budapest
My, my hidden treasure chest,
Golden grand piano
My beautiful castillo
You
Woh, you
Woh, I'd leave it all
Woh, for you
Woh, you
Woh, I'd leave it all
We're past this point in our own relationship where we would think about leaving it all for one another, but it sure is nice to still have such a strong connection and to have that connection be largely communicated through music.
Speaking of communicating through music, my daughter and I biked over to Opera in the Park briefly this evening. The sun was just starting to set, and we climbed up the hill to sit on a cement wall overlooking all the people and listening to the music. It was a beautiful way to end a summer evening...
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Never Let Go
I had a great session this morning with my therapist. I appreciate my therapist so much. I really feel that we can both see the evidence of how my work with her over the years -- and my work in general on myself -- has led to real, positive changes in my life. We can also both see that despite these real changes, challenges still lie ahead, and few people are better than she is at really being with me in the very real pain that I both have experienced and continue to experience in my life.
I'm not unique for having to deal with pain -- that's an experience to which all of us are privy. But the extent of the damage I suffered growing up in a family with an abusive alcoholic for a father and a depressed mother is significant, and it's perhaps even more significant because of the extent to which I employed denial as a tool for survival. I've learned not to be hard on myself about this -- I did -- as we all do -- the best I could with what I knew in the face of a very difficult situation. But the subconscious pathways that were created by living in a fantasy world and denying the very real evidence around me are strong, and it takes a tremendous amount of vigilance to consciously choose another path. I'm still learning how to choose another path, only just recently having gotten strong enough to really look at the consequences of continuing down the old one.
As my therapist and I were talking today, I mentioned something my daughter said to me about a year and a half ago after my then-boyfriend announced he would be moving in a matter of months back to the East Coast. We were talking about whether we would break up or stay together when he left, and she said very clearly: "I want a stepfather who is here." I heard her -- I'm very good at taking to heart what my children say -- and I agreed. That was part of how I decided that when he left, we would break up. But then she said: "But I don't know Mom, you don't let go of people easily."
As my own mother would say, "Truer words were never spoken." Letting go of him has been one of, and maybe even the hardest, thing I've ever had to do. But I'm ready now, over a year later. Not in small part thanks to my therapist, who said in response to what my daughter said, "But you've had a history of letting go of yourself. It's time to change that so that the person you don't let go of is you."
I knew she was right, and even better, I knew that I wouldn't let go of myself again.
Today's song is by one of my top three artists on heartbreak (along with Eddie and Bob) -- it just seems fitting that he'd be the one to sing the anthem about my heart in repair, too:
Well, ring the bell backwards and bury the axe
Fall down on your knees in the dirt
I'm tied to the mast between water and wind
Believe me, you'll never get hurt
Our ring's in the pawnshop, the rain's in the hole
Down at the Five Points I stand
I'll lose everything
But I won't let go of your hand
Well, Peter denied and Judas betrayed
I'll bail with the roll of the drum
And the wind will tell the turn from the wheel
And the watchman is making his rounds
Well, you'll leave me hanging by the skin of my teeth
I've only got one leg to stand
You can send me to hell
But I'll never let go of your hand
Swing from a rope on a cross-legged dream(?)
Signed with One Eyed Jack's blood
From Temple to Union, to LA and Grand
Walking back home in the mud
Now I must make my best of the only way home
Molly deals only in stone
I'm lost on the midway, I'm reckless in your eyes
Just give me a couple more throws
I'll dare you to dine with the cross-legged knight
Dare me to jump and I will
I'll fall from your grace
But I'll never let go of your hand
I'll never let go of your hand
No I won't, Sarah Jane, not ever again. I'm sorry for letting go of it so many times before, when I thought it was necessary in order to hold the hand of a lover. I know now that I can stay with myself and love someone else, and if that isn't possible, the person's hand to let go of is his...
I'm not unique for having to deal with pain -- that's an experience to which all of us are privy. But the extent of the damage I suffered growing up in a family with an abusive alcoholic for a father and a depressed mother is significant, and it's perhaps even more significant because of the extent to which I employed denial as a tool for survival. I've learned not to be hard on myself about this -- I did -- as we all do -- the best I could with what I knew in the face of a very difficult situation. But the subconscious pathways that were created by living in a fantasy world and denying the very real evidence around me are strong, and it takes a tremendous amount of vigilance to consciously choose another path. I'm still learning how to choose another path, only just recently having gotten strong enough to really look at the consequences of continuing down the old one.
As my therapist and I were talking today, I mentioned something my daughter said to me about a year and a half ago after my then-boyfriend announced he would be moving in a matter of months back to the East Coast. We were talking about whether we would break up or stay together when he left, and she said very clearly: "I want a stepfather who is here." I heard her -- I'm very good at taking to heart what my children say -- and I agreed. That was part of how I decided that when he left, we would break up. But then she said: "But I don't know Mom, you don't let go of people easily."
As my own mother would say, "Truer words were never spoken." Letting go of him has been one of, and maybe even the hardest, thing I've ever had to do. But I'm ready now, over a year later. Not in small part thanks to my therapist, who said in response to what my daughter said, "But you've had a history of letting go of yourself. It's time to change that so that the person you don't let go of is you."
I knew she was right, and even better, I knew that I wouldn't let go of myself again.
Today's song is by one of my top three artists on heartbreak (along with Eddie and Bob) -- it just seems fitting that he'd be the one to sing the anthem about my heart in repair, too:
Well, ring the bell backwards and bury the axe
Fall down on your knees in the dirt
I'm tied to the mast between water and wind
Believe me, you'll never get hurt
Our ring's in the pawnshop, the rain's in the hole
Down at the Five Points I stand
I'll lose everything
But I won't let go of your hand
Well, Peter denied and Judas betrayed
I'll bail with the roll of the drum
And the wind will tell the turn from the wheel
And the watchman is making his rounds
Well, you'll leave me hanging by the skin of my teeth
I've only got one leg to stand
You can send me to hell
But I'll never let go of your hand
Swing from a rope on a cross-legged dream(?)
Signed with One Eyed Jack's blood
From Temple to Union, to LA and Grand
Walking back home in the mud
Now I must make my best of the only way home
Molly deals only in stone
I'm lost on the midway, I'm reckless in your eyes
Just give me a couple more throws
I'll dare you to dine with the cross-legged knight
Dare me to jump and I will
I'll fall from your grace
But I'll never let go of your hand
I'll never let go of your hand
No I won't, Sarah Jane, not ever again. I'm sorry for letting go of it so many times before, when I thought it was necessary in order to hold the hand of a lover. I know now that I can stay with myself and love someone else, and if that isn't possible, the person's hand to let go of is his...
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
What I Am
 |
| My favorite mug |
This morning I didn't ride my bike as I normally do, and when I selected my mug I paused when Biker Chick was the one in front. And then I decided that being a biker chick isn't a moniker that one can either acquire or lose in a day, it goes deeper than that. So I made my tea in it.
When I got to work, I was walking up toward the Capitol when a man I don't know on the Capitol grounds said to me: "No bike today?" And I explained no, I didn't ride today, because I had to bring in this 12 pack of Diet Coke for a meeting and didn't trust my bike rack to hold it in place without disrupting my ride.
As I walked away from him I thought to myself, "See? Even this man I don't know knows that I'm a biker chick even without my bike!"
And then Edie Brickell started to play in my head:
I'm not aware of too many things
I know what I know, if you know what I mean
Philosophy is the talk on a cereal box
Religion is the smile on a dog
I'm not aware of too many things
I know what I know, if you know what I mean, d-doo yeah
Choke me in the shallow waters
Before I get too deep
What I am is what I am
Are you what you are or what?
What I am is what I am
Are you what you are, or?
Oh, I'm not aware of too many things
I know what I know, if you know what I mean
Philosophy is a walk on the slippery rocks
Religion is a light in the fog
I'm not aware of too many things
I know what I know, if you know what I mean, d-doo yeah
Choke me in the shallow water
Before I get too deep
What I am is what I am
Are you what you are or what?
What I am is what I am
Are you what you are or what?
Yes I am, Edie. Yes I am...
Friday, July 18, 2014
Stronger
Today at the gym I went to a functional TRX class, where the trainer assigns all kinds of functional exercises that students do in circuits -- some exercises use the TRX -- some don't.
As I was doing push ups inside of two rungs of a ladder lying on the floor and then moving sideways to the next two, the trainer came over and said "Those are some solid push-ups, Sarah, nice work!" I positively beamed. I'd noticed myself that since I've been practicing Ashtanga as it was meant to be practiced -- 6 days per week -- for nearly two months now -- I can actually execute a real, live push-up -- no knees down -- no going down halfway -- no bowing of the back -- and then another, and then another.
I've never liked push-ups, so I never would've gotten to this point relying on doing push-ups to get me there, but I love my yoga practice. And it's where we find joy that strength follows with the least amount of resistance.
Just ask Kanye:
So we gon' do everything that Kan like
Heard they'd do anything for a Klondike
Well, I'd do anything for a blonde-dike
And she'll do anything for the limelight
And we'll do anything when the time's right
Ugh, baby, you're makin' it (harder, better, faster, stronger)
Na-na-na that that don't kill me
Can only make me stronger
I need you to hurry up now
'Cause I can't wait much longer
I know I got to be right now
'Cause I can't get much wronger
Man I've been waitin' all night now
That's how long I've been on you
I need you right now
I need you right now
Yes, thanks to my yoga practice, I'm getting stronger every day. And the stronger I get, the less I need anyone else to complete my experience with every day life. That doesn't mean I won't welcome a partner when the time comes, but it does mean that focusing on getting stronger myself -- physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually -- is all I need right now...
As I was doing push ups inside of two rungs of a ladder lying on the floor and then moving sideways to the next two, the trainer came over and said "Those are some solid push-ups, Sarah, nice work!" I positively beamed. I'd noticed myself that since I've been practicing Ashtanga as it was meant to be practiced -- 6 days per week -- for nearly two months now -- I can actually execute a real, live push-up -- no knees down -- no going down halfway -- no bowing of the back -- and then another, and then another.
I've never liked push-ups, so I never would've gotten to this point relying on doing push-ups to get me there, but I love my yoga practice. And it's where we find joy that strength follows with the least amount of resistance.
Just ask Kanye:
So we gon' do everything that Kan like
Heard they'd do anything for a Klondike
Well, I'd do anything for a blonde-dike
And she'll do anything for the limelight
And we'll do anything when the time's right
Ugh, baby, you're makin' it (harder, better, faster, stronger)
Na-na-na that that don't kill me
Can only make me stronger
I need you to hurry up now
'Cause I can't wait much longer
I know I got to be right now
'Cause I can't get much wronger
Man I've been waitin' all night now
That's how long I've been on you
I need you right now
I need you right now
Yes, thanks to my yoga practice, I'm getting stronger every day. And the stronger I get, the less I need anyone else to complete my experience with every day life. That doesn't mean I won't welcome a partner when the time comes, but it does mean that focusing on getting stronger myself -- physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually -- is all I need right now...
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Gayatri Mantra
My kids are back from their trip, and it is awesome to see them and get to spend time with them again. Being with my kids grounds me, it gives my life a greater sense of purpose, and it helps me watch less Grey's Anatomy.
The only downside so far has been the nightmares. Every night since they got home -- it's like something that I was trying to keep out of even my subconscious by filling it with fictional characters was right there waiting for enough breathing room to enter. It's unsettling, and it's scary, and to top it all off, it means that I don't get good sleep.
Luckily, I still have my yoga practice, which has recently been enhanced, thanks to one of my friends and fellow Ashtangis, with chanting the Gayatri Mantra:
Om bhur bhuvah svah
tat savitur varenyam
bhargo devasya dhimahi
dhiyo yonah prachodayat
And there's something really comforting about its mantra. Unlike other songs, it's not the words' meaning:
English Translation:
We meditate on the transcendental Glory of the Deity Supreme, who is inside the heart of the earth, inside the life of the sky and inside the soul of Heaven. May He stimulate and illuminate our minds.
Maybe the meaning of the words is part of why the mantra is so resonant, I don't know. But I do know I'm grateful for the feeling that something bigger than me is in charge, and I know that when I repeat this mantra I feel more sure of that than when I don't...
The only downside so far has been the nightmares. Every night since they got home -- it's like something that I was trying to keep out of even my subconscious by filling it with fictional characters was right there waiting for enough breathing room to enter. It's unsettling, and it's scary, and to top it all off, it means that I don't get good sleep.
Luckily, I still have my yoga practice, which has recently been enhanced, thanks to one of my friends and fellow Ashtangis, with chanting the Gayatri Mantra:
Om bhur bhuvah svah
tat savitur varenyam
bhargo devasya dhimahi
dhiyo yonah prachodayat
And there's something really comforting about its mantra. Unlike other songs, it's not the words' meaning:
English Translation:
We meditate on the transcendental Glory of the Deity Supreme, who is inside the heart of the earth, inside the life of the sky and inside the soul of Heaven. May He stimulate and illuminate our minds.
Maybe the meaning of the words is part of why the mantra is so resonant, I don't know. But I do know I'm grateful for the feeling that something bigger than me is in charge, and I know that when I repeat this mantra I feel more sure of that than when I don't...
Saturday, July 12, 2014
Sheena is a Punk Rocker
I get updates from People magazine via email. I don't know why -- I never signed up for it -- and a lot of the time the alerts are about things I don't care about.
But not today. Today the People alert was the bearer of some sad news that I care deeply about: Tommy Ramone, the last of the original Ramones, died. He was 65.
I don't know if I would've made it through high school without punk music. At the very least, I would've emerged fettered by all the things I could only release in the mosh pit at concerts, or in my best friend's truck, or in my bedroom when my parents weren't home, with the help of people like Tommy Ramone and his boys.
So many great songs -- it's tough to choose which one to use in tribute -- but this is the one that feels the most natural today:
Sheena is a punk rocker
Sheena is a punk rocker
Sheena is a punk rocker now
Sheena is a punk rocker
Sheena is a punk rocker
Sheena is a punk rocker now
Well she's a punk punk, a punk rocker
Punk punk a punk rocker
Punk punk a punk rocker
Punk punk a punk rocker
Sheena is a punk rocker
Sheena is a punk rocker
Sheena is a punk rocker now
Uh-huh. And Sarah was a punk rocker too.
A part of her still is...
But not today. Today the People alert was the bearer of some sad news that I care deeply about: Tommy Ramone, the last of the original Ramones, died. He was 65.
I don't know if I would've made it through high school without punk music. At the very least, I would've emerged fettered by all the things I could only release in the mosh pit at concerts, or in my best friend's truck, or in my bedroom when my parents weren't home, with the help of people like Tommy Ramone and his boys.
So many great songs -- it's tough to choose which one to use in tribute -- but this is the one that feels the most natural today:
Sheena is a punk rocker
Sheena is a punk rocker
Sheena is a punk rocker now
Sheena is a punk rocker
Sheena is a punk rocker
Sheena is a punk rocker now
Well she's a punk punk, a punk rocker
Punk punk a punk rocker
Punk punk a punk rocker
Punk punk a punk rocker
Sheena is a punk rocker
Sheena is a punk rocker
Sheena is a punk rocker now
Uh-huh. And Sarah was a punk rocker too.
A part of her still is...
Friday, July 11, 2014
Further
About a month ago I got a note from the Universe that has been with me ever since. It said:
"The lower the price of your love, Sarah, the higher its value."
This makes a lot of sense to me, and feels like words to live by, so that's exactly what I've been trying to do.
Which means that when I felt like talking to my heart's all-time favorite man last night, I called him up. For a while I was trying to tell myself that it was time to move on, so I should resist that urge, and when I take my kids out there to visit, I should sleep in my own bed instead of with him.
But then it dawned on me that not only was that inflating the price of my love, it was placing arbitrary terms around my heart, which wants what it wants. So for now, I'm just going to embrace this lingering love, uncertain though its future may be.
Sometimes that feels good. Spacious. And other times it feels scary. And sad. And all the other things expressed in this song:
If I can't let this go
I'm telling you I won't make it another year
If I go all the way
I'm telling you I can see all these things coming clear
'Cause we have so much love
But we need so much more
'Cause we have so much love
But we need so much more
If we go on like this
I'm telling you we won't make it another year
But if we go all the way
I'm telling you we'll finally see all these roads coming clear
'Cause we have so much love
But we need so much more
'Cause we have so much love
But we need so much more
We have a fascination with the darkness
Although we're standing in light
We have the strongest sense of kindness
But still we can't treat our own selves right
We have so much love
But we need so much more
We have so much love
But we need so much more
We go further
We go further
We go further
We go further
Yep, we do. I don't know if we'll be going further together, but I do know this: We will both go further in our lives having loved each other so wholeheartedly...
"The lower the price of your love, Sarah, the higher its value."
This makes a lot of sense to me, and feels like words to live by, so that's exactly what I've been trying to do.
Which means that when I felt like talking to my heart's all-time favorite man last night, I called him up. For a while I was trying to tell myself that it was time to move on, so I should resist that urge, and when I take my kids out there to visit, I should sleep in my own bed instead of with him.
But then it dawned on me that not only was that inflating the price of my love, it was placing arbitrary terms around my heart, which wants what it wants. So for now, I'm just going to embrace this lingering love, uncertain though its future may be.
Sometimes that feels good. Spacious. And other times it feels scary. And sad. And all the other things expressed in this song:
If I can't let this go
I'm telling you I won't make it another year
If I go all the way
I'm telling you I can see all these things coming clear
'Cause we have so much love
But we need so much more
'Cause we have so much love
But we need so much more
If we go on like this
I'm telling you we won't make it another year
But if we go all the way
I'm telling you we'll finally see all these roads coming clear
'Cause we have so much love
But we need so much more
'Cause we have so much love
But we need so much more
We have a fascination with the darkness
Although we're standing in light
We have the strongest sense of kindness
But still we can't treat our own selves right
We have so much love
But we need so much more
We have so much love
But we need so much more
We go further
We go further
We go further
We go further
Yep, we do. I don't know if we'll be going further together, but I do know this: We will both go further in our lives having loved each other so wholeheartedly...
Sunday, July 6, 2014
If You See Her Say Hello
Conscious that I've been watching a wee bit too much TV in my children's absence, I decided to turn it off today and switch to the ipod instead. I was doing some chores, so I kept wandering in and out of the part of the house where I could hear it. Which was all well and good, until I walked into the room and heard this song playing:
If you see her say hello she might be in Tangier
She left here last early spring is living there I hear
Say for me that I'm all right though things get kind of slow
She might think that I've forgotten her don't tell her it isn't so.
We had a falling-out like lovers often will
And to think of how she left that night it still brings me a chill
And though our separation it pierced me to the heart
She still lives inside of me we've never been apart.
And I just fell onto my bed and cried. What can I say? Bob moves me. This song moves me. Maybe those last two lines most of all.
Being apart from those we love is hard. In my kids' case, I know that it is temporary. Which is still hard, but much less heartbreaking than living apart, indefinitely, from the man that my heart seems to be refusing to fully release:
If you get close to her kiss her once for me
I always have respected her for doing what she did and getting free
Oh whatever makes her happy I won't stay in the way
Though the bitter taste still lingers on from the night I tried to make her stay
I see a lot of people as I make the rounds
And I hear her name here and there as I go from town to town
And I've never gotten used to it I've just learned to turn it off
Either I'm too sensitive or else I'm getting soft.
Sundown yellow moon I replay the past
I know every scene by heart they all went by so fast
If she's passing back this way I'm not that hard to find
Tell her she can look me up if she's got the time...
But I'm going to be looking him up in about six weeks when my kids and I go out and visit. And I'm looking forward to it. We all are. I'm not sure what will happen after that, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, I reckon...
If you see her say hello she might be in Tangier
She left here last early spring is living there I hear
Say for me that I'm all right though things get kind of slow
She might think that I've forgotten her don't tell her it isn't so.
We had a falling-out like lovers often will
And to think of how she left that night it still brings me a chill
And though our separation it pierced me to the heart
She still lives inside of me we've never been apart.
And I just fell onto my bed and cried. What can I say? Bob moves me. This song moves me. Maybe those last two lines most of all.
Being apart from those we love is hard. In my kids' case, I know that it is temporary. Which is still hard, but much less heartbreaking than living apart, indefinitely, from the man that my heart seems to be refusing to fully release:
If you get close to her kiss her once for me
I always have respected her for doing what she did and getting free
Oh whatever makes her happy I won't stay in the way
Though the bitter taste still lingers on from the night I tried to make her stay
I see a lot of people as I make the rounds
And I hear her name here and there as I go from town to town
And I've never gotten used to it I've just learned to turn it off
Either I'm too sensitive or else I'm getting soft.
Sundown yellow moon I replay the past
I know every scene by heart they all went by so fast
If she's passing back this way I'm not that hard to find
Tell her she can look me up if she's got the time...
But I'm going to be looking him up in about six weeks when my kids and I go out and visit. And I'm looking forward to it. We all are. I'm not sure what will happen after that, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, I reckon...
Saturday, July 5, 2014
Running Against the Wind
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| One of my dinner guests -- love that baby time! |
I must've needed the sleep, because I finally started tackling some of the things I've been meaning to do around the house, which felt good.
I had to sort of force myself both to do my long run and to do my yoga practice, but both ended up feeling really good. Slacker kept quitting on my phone while I was running, which was super annoying, but luckily my internal jukebox was cranking them out.
I ran from my house to picnic point and back, which I haven't done in a while, but at 7.5 miles, it's just a little bit farther than the run I have been doing from the Capitol to Picnic Point and back. When I turned off the trail that goes to the Point, I started running against the wind, and Bob Seger wasted no time getting started with playing this song in my head:
It seems like yesterday
But it was long ago
Janey was lovely, she was the queen of my nights
There in the darkness with the radio playlng low
And the secrets that we shared
The mountains that we moved
Caught like a wildfire out of control
Till there was nothing left to burn and nothing left to prove
And I remember what she said to me
How she swore that it never would end
I remember how she held me oh so tight
Wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then
Against the wind
We were runnin' against the wind
We were young and strong, we were runnin'
Against the wind
I found myself wondering if running against the wind is meant to indicate not going with the flow/being out of sync, or if it just means sometimes you're going to find yourself in a position against the wind, and when you do, it's best to keep running:
And the years rolled slowly past
And I found myself alone
Surrounded by strangers I thought were my friends
I found myself further and further from my home
And I guess I lost my way
There were oh so many roads
I was living to run and running to live
Never worried about paying or even how much I owed
Moving eight miles a minute for months at a time
Breaking all of the rules that would bend
I began to find myself searchin'
Searchin' for shelter again and again
Against the wind
A little something against the wind
I found myself seeking shelter against the wind
Well those drifters days are past me now
I've got so much more to think about
Deadlines and commitments
What to leave in, what to leave out
Against the wind
I'm still runnin' against the wind
I'm older now but still running
Against the wind
Well I'm older now and still running
Against the wind
I don't know for sure how Bob meant it, but I know that I too am older now, and I'm still running. And yeah, sometimes that means running against the wind, literally and figuratively...
Friday, July 4, 2014
Wedding Ring
 |
| Lake Mendota sunset from my friend's backyard |
I did, however, teach two yoga classes today, and log a lot of miles on my bike. And it really was a gorgeous day.
A friend invited me to their Fourth of July party, and before I left home for it, I had a little talk with the Universe. I'm ready, I said, to meet someone new. My friend and her husband are both doctors, so I thought the possibility that some hot, single physician would be there was pretty good.
I was wrong. There were exactly zero single men. The main person I talked to besides my friend was another single woman. She told me about the two men she was dating, and about the consulting business she was starting, and about how "in the flow" she is feeling. Which is great. I'm all for it. I'm just not really feeling like I'm there myself.
So maybe, in a Rolling Stones kinda way, I got not what I wanted but what I needed: To hear from a strong woman who is making her way in the world and attracting the men she wants. To know that it's possible, even if it isn't exactly my current experience. And that's valuable.
But as I walked back to my car alone, and started reading an email from my ex-husband in which he was telling me how much my daughter was missing me, I just started to cry.
And I heard the song that I'd heard earlier today on my favorite show:
What else is new
I'm stuck here waiting for me to get to you
I'm such a fool
It's no wonder people they glad I'm leaving you
And I don't even leave the house much anymore
And I can't even get myself up off the floor
When I do I'm
I'm gonna move out of this winter in the spring
I'm gonna take you out, we can dance and sing
I'm gonna show you, that I'm so much more than I've been in the past
I'm gonna buy you a ring
In so many ways I'm really fortunate. And I know that. But tonight, I feel sad that my kids are on a trip with their Dad without me, missing me. And I feel sad that I didn't get to marry the man I fell in love with after I got divorced -- he never bought me a ring:
Got my guitar, but the pawn shop's closed, tomorrow it opens at ten
It might not go far, but the cash I get isn't going towards the rent
'Cause I've got more important things that I've got to do
Gonna find the ring that I can give to you
And when I do
I'm gonna move out of this winter in the spring
I'm gonna take you out, and we will dance and sing
I'm gonna show you, that I'm so much more than I've been in the past
I'm gonna buy you a ring
I know that I will meet someone, and fall in love again, and get married for real this time. But I also know that until that happens, I'm going to have to be in the midst of coupledom all by myself. And sometimes that's going to feel ok, but other times, it's going to be hard. And that's just the way it is...
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
Crystallised
En route to DC, I had some time to catch up on back issues of The New Yorker. Among the many things I love about that magazine are the occasional profiles of bands, often bands, like this one, of which I've never heard.
Their music tends toward the melancholy, and as I sit in the airport in DC waiting for my flight home, I'm not exactly feeling melancholy. Not exactly.
But I am tired. And I am facing several more hours of travel in this tired state. And I'm going home to a house that will be empty (except for the pets) for the next 12 days while my kids are on a trip with their Dad. I'm happy for them that they get so many opportunities to travel, and I'm grateful that they have a good relationship with their father that allows them to feel comfortable taking such a long trip without me. But I'll miss them a lot -- more when I'm at home than when I'm on the road.
The song that I found when I looked up this band was this one:
You've applied the pressure
To have me crystalised
And you've got the faith
That I could bring paradise
I'll forgive and forget
Before I'm paralyzed
Do I have to keep up the pace
To keep you satisfied
Things have gotten closer to the sun
And I've done things in small doses
So don't think that I'm pushing you away
When you're the one that I've kept closest
Ahh, ahh, ahh
Ahh, ahh, ahh
Ahh, ahh, ahh
Ahh, ahh, ahh
You don't move slow
Taking steps in my directions
The sound resounds, echo
Does it lessen your affection
No
You say I'm foolish
For pushing this aside
But burn down our home
I won't leave alive
Glaciers have melted to the sea
I wish the tide would take me over
I've been down on my knees
And you just keep on getting closer
Ahh, ahh, ahh
Ahh, ahh, ahh
Ahh, ahh, ahh
Ahh, ahh, ahh
Placid as I melt into the sea
(Things have gotten closer to the sun)
I wish the tide would take me over
(And I've done things in small doses)
I've been down onto my knees
(So don't think that I'm pushing you away)
And you just keep on getting closer
(When you're the one that I've kept closest)
Which is really pretty polar opposite from how I'm feeling. As usual, spending time away from home has made me feel much less stuck. Much less wedded to any particular outcome for my love life or my professional life. Which is a good feeling. Free to be me -- whatever that means and whoever it means I'm going to be doing it with -- the world feels pretty wide open...
Their music tends toward the melancholy, and as I sit in the airport in DC waiting for my flight home, I'm not exactly feeling melancholy. Not exactly.
But I am tired. And I am facing several more hours of travel in this tired state. And I'm going home to a house that will be empty (except for the pets) for the next 12 days while my kids are on a trip with their Dad. I'm happy for them that they get so many opportunities to travel, and I'm grateful that they have a good relationship with their father that allows them to feel comfortable taking such a long trip without me. But I'll miss them a lot -- more when I'm at home than when I'm on the road.
The song that I found when I looked up this band was this one:
You've applied the pressure
To have me crystalised
And you've got the faith
That I could bring paradise
I'll forgive and forget
Before I'm paralyzed
Do I have to keep up the pace
To keep you satisfied
Things have gotten closer to the sun
And I've done things in small doses
So don't think that I'm pushing you away
When you're the one that I've kept closest
Ahh, ahh, ahh
Ahh, ahh, ahh
Ahh, ahh, ahh
Ahh, ahh, ahh
You don't move slow
Taking steps in my directions
The sound resounds, echo
Does it lessen your affection
No
You say I'm foolish
For pushing this aside
But burn down our home
I won't leave alive
Glaciers have melted to the sea
I wish the tide would take me over
I've been down on my knees
And you just keep on getting closer
Ahh, ahh, ahh
Ahh, ahh, ahh
Ahh, ahh, ahh
Ahh, ahh, ahh
Placid as I melt into the sea
(Things have gotten closer to the sun)
I wish the tide would take me over
(And I've done things in small doses)
I've been down onto my knees
(So don't think that I'm pushing you away)
And you just keep on getting closer
(When you're the one that I've kept closest)
Which is really pretty polar opposite from how I'm feeling. As usual, spending time away from home has made me feel much less stuck. Much less wedded to any particular outcome for my love life or my professional life. Which is a good feeling. Free to be me -- whatever that means and whoever it means I'm going to be doing it with -- the world feels pretty wide open...
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