Music and Lyrics

I believe everyone is a music or lyrics person.  You either love the melody for the notes or the words.  That doesn't mean you can't love and respect the other, but you're soulmate is either the flourish of a banjo or love story that is told in stanzas, bridges, and chorus.  I'm the latter... I find myself lost in a sea of imagery and tones that paint a picture and carry me away.  Or maybe more than losing myself I find myself.  I'm grounded in my soul when I find a song that tells my story.  Someone else hears my fears and my sadness and my joy.  Someone else put it into song.  And somewhere, someone else is listening to the same words and we're instantly connected.  No doubt my ties to the music means something different, but I am not alone.  Not in that song.  

And there are the songs that empower.  The songs that challenge us to be better versions of ourselves.  Songs with harmony but a very strong melody.  After all, without the melody, it would not be the same song.  Add the piano, guitar, mandolin, banjo, kick drum, cello, bass... and you are moved to move.  Move out of your seat.  Move out of the auditorium.  Move down the street and right into welcoming arms of your lover... your neighbor... your God.  

Life is a musical.  Or at least it should be.

Music and Lyrics by Me (and The Avett Brothers occasionally)

The loves of my life

How many people actually stay in touch with the people they were friends with in childhood?  This is a question I often ask myself these days.  I look around the many faces that bless my circle and I see some very familiar ones.  There is the girl that was my best friend in 2nd grade... even further back there is the girl that was my very first best friend when our mothers sold TupperWare together when we were 3.  There is the girl that kept me from losing myself in middle school, and actually probably had the biggest influence in shaping who I am.  There is the girl that played the flute next to me for many years as we laughed and made up words and traveled to hell and back.

These are the women I look at now and I am amazed at how after all these years they challenge me.  What a wonderful thing to feel like I will be loved forever because I met these ladies in my youth.  I can say a lot of negative things about where I come from, but that place brought me to them, so in a way it was the most positive place of my life thus far.  

And after a wonderful Valentine's Day with some of them in city full of history just as our friendships are... I am glad to proclaim to the world how much I love them... every day of the year.

Vaccination

You will all be happy to know that my annual physical went well (I know you were anxious).  I only flinched and shook a little when they drew my blood, my heart has a rhythm (and blues), and that annoying tingling in my right foot is nothing to worry about.  But just as I thought I was in the clear... out of no where... they spring a Tdap on me!  For those who care, Tdap is a Tetanus, Diphtheria, and Pertussis vaccine.  I did ok... the lady did have to tell me to breathe in and breathe out and she pinched my left shoulder.  One good poke and I was vaccinated/infected. 

Now, a day later, I can barely raise my left arm.  I feel like there's a small mountain growing out of bicep.  But it got me to thinking... you infect someone to protect them from the diseases of the world around them.  Could that be the way all immunity works?  Do we have to be infected by the sickening things of life... hurt, dissappointment, anger, brokeness, jealousy... in order to build up an immunity to them when faced with the outbreaks?  And does the dose we are given dictate the side-effects that follow?  Pain, redness or swelling, fever, headache, tiredness, chills, body aches, sore joints, rash, swollen lymph nodes?  Can the vaccine that's intended to make you stronger actually cause you harm in the long run? And really, when will I face a rusty nail that will take me out or a Bob Jones hottie with Whooping Cough?

And they didn't even give me a sucker for not crying.

On being the bigger woman...

From the time you turn about 15, the phrase "be the bigger person" is directed at you whenever you bow up in defense or hurt or frustration. At least in my experience, anytime I felt extreme emotion or passion about a certain situation, I was asked (or told) (or expected) to "be the bigger woman". Well thanks to all of my wonderful friends and family, I may be the biggest woman I know. And to be frank, I'm not so sure I'm proud of that fact.

What is so wrong with feeling things deeply and holding grudges against people that really, truly, deeply wounded you? Is it not human nature to protect yourself from danger? In learning to be the "bigger woman" I have learned avoidance... which is something I always avoided. I pride myself in meeting challenges head-on... in handling what needs to be handled to move on. Now, because it's so "big" of me, I smile and say "you're right"... "I understand completely"... "of course you are making the right choice by smashing my hopes and dreams"... "I agree that I'm not the girl for you". In being the "bigger woman", I've belittled myself. I've started to believe the things that are thrown at me that I deflect so that everyone can be happy.

Here's me, big or little. Don't tell me what I can and can't do... I'm a strong woman who can break through doors and tear down walls. Don't say I'm not good enough... I'm a confident woman who knows I'm much better than you give me credit for. Don't criticise me for my trials and failure... I'm an independent woman who can stand on my own two feet and appreciates the good things in life.

I hope this doesn't ruffle any feathers... if so, know that I think you're right... I understand completely... etc... etc...

365 days

Do you ever remember the dates of important events in your life and then replay them when their anniversary comes around? Birthdays and holidays don't count (unless something unusual happened on those days). My dates of importance this year... Aug. 4, Sept. 22, Nov. 24, Jan. 4, Jan. 18, April 6. I'm sure there are more, but those are the few that automatically pop into my head. On these days I wake up reflecting on what has happened in the 365 days between then and now. What have I learned? How have I changed?

In the year that's passed since Nov. 24, 2007, I have learned to be so vulnerable that I say and act in such passionate ways that I can surprise myself at how deeply someone can feel. I have learned what self-worth feels like and that it's not the same things as being self-centered. I have learned that what you always think you wanted may sometimes be the exact opposite, but that finding that out by trial and error is better than never trying at all. I have learned that the friends you think you will have for life really ARE the friends that you will have for life. I have learned that not letting yourself be affected by other peoples negativity is positively refreshing.

I am a changed woman because I am a better judge of heart and intent. I am stronger because I have gained strength from the life experiences of the new and old friends in my life. I am healthier because I see how my actions and decisions now will effect me and the people around me in the long run. I am clearer in my path in life and anxious that I am not acting on my hearts leading. I am happier because the most important person in my life is a new beacon of light in my world.

I don't so much mind the 365 day evaluation, even if this day marks one of the darkest I can remember. Maybe that is why a year later, I can be so thankful for the milestone of Nov. 24, 2008.

Tune in and turn me on...

So I have a funny confession to make... I have rarely shared this secret with anyone until a few weeks ago when I was face to face with one of the greatest women in my life. Who knows how it came up... but out of no where I felt the need to come clean. Aerosmith turns me on. Any day of the week, any time of day, put on "Crazy", "Cryin'", that Armageddon song, and then take me to bed.

While in reality, simply listening to the crooning of Steven Tyler won't really get you in my pants (nice try, boys) it is interesting to me the emotion that comes from music. Shortly after I made my confession, Erin and I went to enjoy the blue grass funk of The Avett Brothers... a soulful, harmonic trio of men (sometimes more) who love music so much they can sweep you into a frenzy of dancing and singing and clapping your hands out of pure joy. In fact, they can bring you to tears. I had never sat in an audience and felt so involved in the music as I did that night. The lights dimmed and the spotlight came up on Seth (I think that's the right brother... the really hot one) and he began to sing a song called "Murder in the City". It's about a boy that moves to the city and wants to put his nervous family at ease by assuring them that if he should get murdered in the city that things would be ok (at least that's how the song speaks to me). The whole song is brilliant, but towards the end, my brother sings....

If I get murdered in the city
Go read the letter in my desk
Don't bother with all my belongings
But pay attention to the list

Make sure my sister knows I love her
Make sure my mother knows the same
Always remember, there is nothing worth sharing like the love that let us share our name

Need I say more?

River of Dreams

I spent the whole morning looking at graduate programs. The same graduate programs I browsed a few years ago. One of them, Vanderbilt, even merited an actual campus visit during my senior year of college. It's funny how dreams work. In my mind I can imagine myself doing one thing above all others. This one thing would be the culmination of so many things I feel passionately about. But for some reason, it still remains only a dream.

What is it about the things that make us whole that make us think that they are the things that are unachievable? Buying a house (I'll just rent until I know where I want to be, plus I could never get a loan...), traveling abroad (I don't have the time and it's too risky by myself...), getting a dog (I'd never be home to play with her and I can't stand the thought of getting attached to her and then losing her...), making a commitment to a someone (I'd never be home to play with him and I can't stand the thought of getting attached to him and then losing him...), going back to school to do what you REALLY want to do (With the economy the way it is now, why would I leave a secure job and pay to go back to school?...). All of these things require me, at least, to move away from what I'm familiar with. I know nothing about being in debt, nothing about speaking to people that speak a different language, nothing about taking care of another living being, nothing about finding unconditional love (but man, I really want a dog!), nothing about leaving the upstate of South Carolina to go wherever it takes to achieve what I feel is the closest thing to destiny I have. And I'm not sure I even believe in destiny (fate, serendipity, whatever). And if it is actually IS my destiny, that will only take me so far. I have to take the steps to fulfill it.

But here I am at my kitchen table. Frozen with fear. Staring at my new South Carolina license plate. Wishing that I wasn't confined to the land of palm trees and crescent moons.