The Transfiguration

A selfie with shoes in the frame is no easy feat!

The ipod player in my bedroom has been busted for months, which is a real drag. I need to get something else so that I can play music in that end of the house, but for now, what I have is an alarm clock with an ipod sitting on top of it. When I bump it, the ipod turns on as if it were going to play, only it doesn't. Its screen just lights up and shows the title and artist for this song:

When he took the three disciples to the mountainside to pray
His countenance was modified, his clothing was aflame
Two men appeared, Moses and Elijah came
They were at his side
The prophecy, the legislation spoke
Of whenever he would die

Then there came a word of what he should accomplish on the day
Then Peter spoke, to make of them a tabernacle place
A cloud appeared in glory as an accolade
They fell on the ground
A voice arrived, the voice of God
The face of God covered in a cloud

What he said to them, the voice of God, the most beloved son
Consider what he says to you, consider what's to come
The prophecy was put to death, was put to death
And so will the son
And keep your word, disguise the vision
Till the time has come

It's happened so many times that I thought to myself "I should blog about this song" and now seems as good a time as any. After all, spring has sprung and Easter just passed:

Lost in the cloud, a voice
Have no fear, we draw near
Lost in the cloud, a sign
Son of man, turn your ear

Lost in the cloud, a voice
Lamb of God, we draw near
Lost in the cloud, a sign
Son of man, son of God

I love the story of the resurrection and the idea of rebirth. And this season does feel like a rebirth of sorts. Unfortunately, there is one thing that has not changed, which is my desire to be understood by the people who birthed me and their inability to do that in a number of ways...

The Seer's Tower

This morning something magical happened: my ipod alarm clock woke me up with this song instead of with the buzzer:

In the tower above the earth,
There is a view that reaches far...

I call it magic because try as I might, I can't figure out how to program it to do that, but once in a while, it just decides to wake me with a song, and I'm always grateful when it does.

A short while later, on my bike commute, I was thinking that there are a couple of reasons why this song is appropriate to mark this day:

1) The bride from the wedding where I met my beloved is a big fan of Sufjan Stevens, and she was a big fan of the two of us as a couple, too. I remember that when we broke up the first time, she sent me some of his songs. His peaceful voice was soothing then, and it's soothing now.

2) Loving someone totally and completely is a seer's tower with a view that reaches far -- it gives you a new perspective on many things about yourself, love, life -- it's one of the best parts about love, especially after the relationship ends (since there are other best things to appreciate while you're together).

As I rode, I started to think about all the ways in which my perspective has changed -- on a number of topics -- as a result of loving and being loved by my New Englander.

Here are as many as I can think of right now -- I am sure there are others (which I can always come back and add later):

*Men's heads: Bald can be beautiful too, baby, and does it ever feel good to rub a particularly well-shaped bald head. (Damn, I miss that head.)

*The purpose of parenting: This one might be tougher to explain, but basically, he added a nuance to my belief or understanding of the purpose of parenting. I've always felt my job as a parent was to nurture my children's spirits -- lovely, but it can come up a little shy in terms of helping form fully functional human beings. My love's focus was about helping them grow into the best adults they can be. So a practical way this might play out is that my son's spirit might lead him to flit around and avoid doing any chores but when he grows up that's going to make his roommates and/or mate pretty dang unhappy, so I'm better off pushing him to learn to deal with this aspect of life now in preparation for later. (Damn, I miss having his yang to balance out my yin.)

*Men's sexuality: Ladies, don't believe that libido has to fade over time -- there are men out there who can bring it, and bring it, and bring it, even in their mid-to-late forties (and I'm guessing long after that, too). Trust me, I had one of them in my grasp for three sweet years. (Damn, I miss that drive.)

*Bikes: Before I met my love I didn't fully appreciate the beauty of the two-wheeled machine in the way I do now. He introduced me to vastly superior bikes than those I was accustomed to riding and bought me probably the single biggest life-changing gift ever -- my road bike -- which I happily ride almost every single day (until I'm forced to get out the winter bike); he fixed my bikes and my kids' bikes; and he reintroduced me to the joys and challenges of mountain biking. (Damn, I miss those greasy fingers, riding around town with him, and watching him ride gleefully through the woods.)

*The relationship between brilliance and advanced degrees: I used to have a more narrow understanding of what constitutes a highly intelligent person. This dude might not have studied as much as some, but he knows and understands more than most. (Damn, I miss that vocabulary.)

*My body and my conception of beauty: I used to be all about being thin, but thanks to him, I've switched to being all about muscle, even if it means having a bigger butt or bigger thighs, and I feel more beautiful than ever. (Damn, I miss my body being appreciated.)

*Classic Rock: Not my favorite genre before my adoration for him began, but there's nothing quite like witnessing the sheer enjoyment of something in someone you love to help your own appreciation grow. (Damn, I miss that beautiful fist pumping in the air.)

Damn, I loved the view from that tower.

Sure wish we hadn't felt the need to climb back down, him because he couldn't abide it's location, and me because I couldn't abide being up there without him...

You Are the Rake

Perhaps the hardest thing we have to confront in this human form is the experience of having a love grow cold. It's hard to say exactly how it happens and it's comparatively easy, in retrospect, to find the fault lines that we failed to see or acknowledge in the early stages of a relationship. I think maybe the best response we can have to this phenomenon is to grieve the loss as we would a death, because that's exactly what it is in many respects. And when someone dies, we don't go back and find fault with them or with the reasons we chose them; we mourn the lack of what they added to our life.

This sad number from Sufjan Stevens is a dirge that could inspire waterworks in the toughest among us:

I never felt so safe

A line I once told her

Warm, resting place

Her arms on my shoulder

You are the rock

You are the rake

You are the one when I watch myself

We ran into a cave

When the wars came closer

She turned into a cave

Where it turned colder

I'm not sure exactly what it means, but I think it has something to do with the fertile ground that is left behind when a love dies. It's raw and it's uncomfortable but there's also so much opportunity if we are willing to get out the rototiller and prepare the soil for the next seed(s) to be planted. (Speaking of seeds being planted, check out this little beauty!)

I think maybe treating the loss this way leaves more room for both having faith that another love might really last as well as room for a new kind of relationship to form with a past love. Because despite what it may feel like at times, and as monumental a loss as it is, it is only the romantic love that has died, not your capacity to love -- that's still there (once that earth has been churned enough times) to allow you to love someone new and bridge a new relationship with the person with whom you once shared the closeness reserved for lovers.