baths and secrets. but not secret baths, that’d be weird.
First, I’ve been feeling like Goldilocks lately.
And not just because of the color of my hair.
More because, see, I am a fan of a good bath. But recently I’ve been striking out. And it’s been all Papa Bear or all Mama Bear all the time while I’ve had to jump out of the water, it being too hot or too cold, without ever finding my Baby Bear kind of just right.
And a bath is a commitment. It takes some time to fill the tub, not to mention the fact that it is a drain on my bubbly resources. And no, I don’t mean champagne because no, I don’t have any of that. What I do have is some precious stuff that makes the water smell really nice and then get all good and bubbly and so you understand that I don’t like to waste it.
Oh well, there are worse things, I suppose. Like the time I was in Mexico and showering regularly with cockroaches that looked like they ate better than some of the people I met down there.
Next, I have pink shoulders.
Why?
Oh, because of that lovely and unbridled sun. Because of the way it encouraged me to wear a tank top. But also because it’s still the tricky month of March, and though I remember to grab a sweater before I run out the door, I don’t quite remember to wear sun screen. And though I remember to sit in the sun for a very long time, I don’t quite remember that my shoulders have been through a long winter and perhaps I would do well to ease them into sun worshipping rather than bam! here’s the sun: get to it!
And lastly, I am slowly building up some secrets. And now my brother Jason has stopped reading because he is busy texting me, asking me what secret I am referring to on here.
But what I mean is, I am becoming like a city enclosed again, I think.
Or maybe just a nice little home. Some flowers out front. A piano inside. But a lock on the door, which is kind of nice too.
See, there is this house on Appleton Road that I pass by quite a lot. And house is putting it kindly; it’s more likely called ruins. There is no ceiling, no door, and nothing close to four walls. This house, it has no secrets. Anybody passing by can see exactly what is going on, if they care to look. All that it contains is exposed, poor thing.
And sometimes it reminds me of me. Or at least the way I’ve been. It’s weird to be an adult and have your life completely exposed. To suddenly have the door ripped off the hinges and the blinds pulled up, and everybody saying, Oh, wow. That’s what’s going on in there? What. A. Mess.
But now I’m gathering some secrets and I’m feeling less exposed and I’m less like wickipedia and I’m more like a journal and there are songs that I have written that I cannot yet sing for you and there are pages I am writing that nobody has read and I’m feeling some autonomy and I’m feeling less like ruins and I like the feel of a door right here again and I’m careful about who I let through it, can you blame me?
And I think all of this is a pretty good idea.
One heck of a run-on sentence, but still, a pretty good idea.
in Thoughts and Feelings
as A. Mess, Appleton Road, baby bear, bath, brother jason, door, house, Jason, Mama Bear, Mexico, papa bear, sun, time
Text incoming…. I need to know these secrets.
But seriously, that is nice, returning to some sense of security and normalcy – some privacy. People do deserve privacy. I love that house on Appleton, though. Always have.
me too. I like to imagine what it looked like back when it was whole, with people who lived inside it; painted the walls according to their preference, and hosted parties and everything. But I like the look of it now too…It’s just always been something I’ve loved about home.
and haha you weren’t kidding about that text!!!
That’s a wonderful metaphor about the house…but I love what you say about feeling less like wikipedia and more like a journal…That made me smile, and all of it made me feel happy and relieved for you.
It’s an especially good metaphor because with wikipedia ANYONE can see it and also ANYONE can make changes to it – and I think your life felt out of control, slashed and dashed and rewritten by other people for a while there. But a journal is all yours to write.
yeah, there’s a big difference, I guess. And I’ve always loved my journal; it’s been a safe place for me and you’re right–there was a total lack of control for a while there. It’s not to feel some ownership again.
thanks Nina…I am starting to feel that way too…:)
“secret my whole life was a secret”, I was singing this line from ACL, as I read this entry..LOL, I know I’m a weirdo! However, it is great to keep some stuff locked away for yourself! I agree with Nina the above metaphor’s were awesome!
JR–you are not a weirdo! and if you are, then it’s the best kind of weirdo and can I be one too???
This made me smile Jess…. esp the metaphor or wikipedia/journal…. Im so so glad you’ve got secrets again- thats such good thing! I have really had a sense to pray for you recently -( random I know!)…. but weirdly to pray for this…..really…. just this sense of security again…. I never thought of it like this…. but yes that you’d have secrets… so I’m so glad you’ve got secrets(:
Clare–that means so much that you have been praying for me…thanks so much; I need it and I appreciate you!!!:)
Yay for secrets! And I love that house on Appleton too. I remember when one of the walls fell in
But, that didn’t make me love it any less! I’m glad you are rebuilding some of your walls – just don’t make them impenetrable, ok?
“I remember when one of the walls fell in But, that didn’t make me love it any less! ”
And I’m pretty sure that when my walls fell in, so to speak, you didn’t love me any less then either.
And no, I’m not shooting for impenetrable; I’m just shooting for some security round these parts…
Yes, I agree with Michele. Make sure that your walls are strong, and sturdy, but also make sure that the lock isn’t always on to everyone. I love you Jessica. You are one of my all-time favorite female vocalists. When you sing, you bring tears to my eyes, you are so talented. You also have an awesome style too. No matter what anyone thinks. Keep building your walls, and keeping the secrets that need to be kept, and share the ones that you want to with the people you would like to. Oh yeah, and ROCK ON!
Rachel-you are so kind and sweet. I love singing so much, so thank you for those words…and yep–right with you there on that lock being used when appropriate:)
a delightful post to read! feeling some autonomy is soooo good.
and I kinda like Friday Night Foxes as a band name… but the actual one is great!
Someone else told me that they thought Friday Night Foxes was our band name too, from reading the title–I like that, as well! Not a bad idea:)
Every step forward into healing, restoration, peace, and a proper house makes me very happy for you, Jess! Bless you.
thanks so much for sharing in my bits of joy AND sadness; I can feel it:)
i’m afraid a begrungingly agree with everyone saying this is a good thing – even though I love knowing lots of secrets!!
But seriously – good post. And good stuff going on. You are rebuilding a new foundation for a new future.
Are you kidding? I’m pretty sure you know my secrets…:)
Jess..great post..i am so glad that you have some secrets and you are building a new foundation…it’s a beautiful one and beautiful things will continue to be built..
1) I don’t think secret baths are all that weird. I mean, who needs to know you’re in a bath?
2) You know how I feel about writing only what you want to and sharing what you want to on your blog. It doesn’t matter how much you reveal – let your blog be yours. Amen, sista.
“To suddenly have the door ripped off the hinges and the blinds pulled up, and everybody saying, Oh, wow. That’s what’s going on in there? What. A. Mess.”
I had a different experience when I looked inside. I thought,
“That’s what’s going on in there? Wow… I have known this house for years and have always loved it’s beauty. I can’t believe this house hasn’t been completely obliterated to shreds after the storm that went through here. And look….look at how it has only become more beautiful. How can this be?”
You see, I ran to the house after the storm, with all the tools I could muster in such an emergency, gathering my strength all the way there, rehearsing what might need to be done to bring some sort of restoration, to keep the whole thing from crumbling beyond recognition.
But it was the oddest thing.
When I got there, I looked inside, and my breath was taken away. Yes, everything was exposed and trauma had clearly taken place, shaking this little house all the way to the foundation. But. How. Beautiful. Is. The. House. Still. Standing. It had never been more beautiful to me.
I could do nothing but leave all that I had brought with me outside, because it just wouldn’t do. The house had become otherworldly almost, and surely sacred. I could do nothing but sit down silently inside that little house and cry quietly. I found my favorite corner, which was slightly askew as the ground beneath had pushed through to create a new angle. I settled in, and I cried with the walls of the little house as I could feel them still shaking in fear. Neither of us could believe it had survived, and we were thankful. We cried for all that it had been and for the loss of what we all thought it would be forever.
But each day the house still stands, it gets stronger. Instead of being weakened by the destruction, this little house was somehow strengthened. And even though-unbelievably- some still come and throw rocks at the house, shouting that the house itself was to blame for the storm, the house gets stronger still. And I must say that being with this house is nothing but an honor, and it is more beautiful than it has ever been inside.
And if you have the privilege of sitting alone with the little house for a while, be prepared to be changed somehow. For the better. Words are not even necessary. You will hear the whispers of hope within the frame, if you are simply quiet.
No, the house exposed is not a mess. The house is extraordinarily beautiful.
Well, that was quite beautiful, and I wholeheartedly agree. Love that part about people blaming the little house for the storm – it’s a great comparison.
Darby, again, your comment could stand alone as its own blog post…so so beautiful. tears. again. and so much love. thank you…I cannot wait to sit with you again…