Sunday, November 7, 2010

And when the fog horn blows I want to hear it: I don't have to fear it

Everything that's old is new again. I need a fresh place.

I have longed to be separate and hidden since I was a little girl. My life can get crowded; sometimes you wanna go where everyone doesn't know your name. It is not so much that I am not willing to share thoughts with the blogosphere, but that I want space without all of the trappings of my life attached. Somewhere were I share without being noticed by the eyes of the too close.

I have heard so much news these days about transparency in our lives and the after effects. Well I propose something quieter. Something to share in the quiet corners. There are vast expanses of self that are muted.

With all of the unmasking my mystery has stopped. My face feels lost, my body is somehow less powerful. I am a bit lost in all of this. I was in a fog of pain, grief, loss of control; I have been stripped down to nothing. I have lost almost everything. The security that I had fell away like leaves.

From nothing, no pride, no plan, I have had to start over and build everything alone. There is no can't in my world now. There is nothing but myself to stop the big bad world. I have recreated as much as I could for the children. It is the price. It has been more than I expected.

This song has always brought me solace. Come here, my star has faded. My star has faded. I am some much smaller and older than I have ever been. Who is the person that I have become?

1 comment:

  1. Moving Forward Boldly, But Quietly:

    Wayne Muller (in his recent "A Life of Being, Having, and Doing Enough") suggests that we view important choices as fibers in a thread that winds mysteriously through the time-space tapestry of living in the world. To yank and pull on that thread, making up our minds ahead of time where it should go, abrades and constrains us.

    I really like that metaphor. For my part, I have been inclined to fear letting go. Would I do something regrettable? Shocking? Disappointing to those around me? Perhaps I would. Even so, I'm trying not to stomp on my heart anymore. That doesn't mean I act impulsively all the time. I just try to respect my small quiet voice--as a friend that I at least ought to listen to.

    To expose the soul's wanderings to others--even close others--is dangerous, I know. So I'm careful. I have some people in my life who are threatened by even modest flights of independence, like having a coffee with a friend once-a-week.

    Our stars are fading--yes. (And mine is 10 years more tarnished than yours!) Even as you feel that you are exposed and weary and jaded, you have wisdom and health and spunk and--yes--beauty. Sorry if that sounds a bit like a lecture--I am sorry for the weights pressing you down. Maybe something new will be born out of all this. Who knows? Does it console you that all our stars are fading together;) I really don't mind the thought of mingling with the dust again some day. Then from there to part of a fish scale or an aspen leaf or a grasshopper's foot;)