let go.
in I Lift My Eyes Up
as alice in wonderland, change, clutches, free swish, John Legend, kind, knowledge, leggings, life, ottis redding, rabbit, something, sound of the wind, springtime, today, tomorrow, version, white knuckles, white rabbit, winter snow, wonderland
Tonight, I listened.
To a friend tell me the kind of words that, in the past, have not gone down so easy.
Not like listening to John Legend or Ottis Redding.
That kind of thing goes down real easy; my heart becomes a bowl that can never quite catch enough of what they’re pouring, it seems.
But tonight, a friend said yet another kind and gracious version of the theme of my life, lately:
LET GO.
When I’m feeling like the past is the only kind of fire I can ever warm my heart by again.
When I am feeling like I must rush to catch up, that I am that white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland who is perpetually late, late, late! Always preoccupied by the clock he clutches, by the knowledge that what he was sure he’d do yesterday isn’t even a guarantee for tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or any day, really.
When I am missing the shape that my life had settled into at one point.
When I am afraid that tomorrow will bring more change; when I am even more afraid that tomorrow will be exactly the same as today.
To all this, my friends and the maker of this beautiful universe, say the same thing. They say it over and over again, tirelessly; it sounds like doors slamming and hearts breaking, but something more, too; like the kind of peace that comes when you look to your hands and see them finally empty. The white knuckles are not so white any longer and now, oh dear God, NOW there is room for something that is pure life giving.
Like water, clean and sweet.
Like grace, undeserved.
Let go, they tell me so many times, swelling until it becomes the very sound of the wind rushing the leaves to the ground in the fall; the soft brush of winter snow sticking to the corners of the porch in piles, as if we could ever actually save some for later; the sound of springtime birds singing, not because they have to, but because it’s just another sign that they are alive; and I can hear it in summer, too. In the free swish of my skirt against my bare legs, my body having hidden behind sweaters and leggings and boots and layers of just about everything imaginable all winter long.
Let go.
It’s an anthem and a challenge; it’s simple but there’s nothing easy about it.
Nevertheless, let go.
It’s better this way, the universe keeps telling me, and who am I to argue?
the lady of shalott, remix, etc.
in I Lift My Eyes Up, MP3, Thoughts and Feelings
as american neighbors, boots, chai, compliment, everything, footwear, Foreign, gosh, immigration laws, John Legend, laughter, life, mirth, ordinary people, remix, Somebody, studio, time, way
Jonah and I had some fun in the studio with this one. That boy’s genius, I must say.
And what else?
Somebody at the gym a). first asked me what my boots were (I answered “boots,” believe it or not), b). then told me they are weird, and c). finished his commentary on my boots by telling me they look foreign.
Foreign.
Like he’s not only concerned about our immigration laws concerning our North American neighbors, but is also concerned about migrating footwear.
Now, an actually appropriate question could have been to ask why I was wearing boots at the gym in the first place. But why would anyone do that? Asking somewhat normal questions is just so predictable.
Anyway, I don’t think he meant it this way, but I totally took him calling my boots foreign as a compliment.
Tonight, I met a friend for chai. We talked for a long time; our conversation lasted way longer than the chai. And at one point she said, ‘It’s just that everything is so different than I ever planned it…”
I told her that’s life.
Oh gosh, that makes me sound like I’m a little jaded, a little bitter, a little over it. But I’m not. I mean, I said it with laughter in my voice. The kind of laughter that people from another generation might even call mirth.
Because, see, I don’t believe that’s an entirely bad thing at all–life being different than we planned. John Legend says it so well when he calls us ordinary people. We don’t see so well. Even on our smartest days–the ones when we remember to call our friend on his birthday and pay our bills on time–we don’t have all the information. Therefore, our plans aren’t always the best.
We trust that someone else has better plans. We trust that those plans will happen. We do what we can with what we can, and we trust all along that, as someone said: “It’ll all be okay in the end; so if it’s not okay, it’s not the end.”
dinner at 11
in Loved Ones, photography, Thoughts and Feelings
as cake, Calgary, course wine, dinner, Emily, God, goodness, honest to goodness, hummingbird cake, Ian, John Legend, Nickel Creek, night, paper thin walls, right, theater/tour, thing, thoughts/life, waffle maker
All of you wonderful people who have homes and kitchens and front doors with real keys which you regularly use might not realize it, but goodness, staying in a home makes a difference. A heck of a difference. It’s not that hotels don’t have their charm. I certainly don’t mind a good continental breakfast, especially [...]
