Sometimes It's Enough To Just Stand...

I never did like rollercoasters. I could turn myself upside down every day--flips galore. But I never wanted some metal train to do it for me. And now my life is metal trains, and I have to wrestle the operator to the ground to press the stop button and resume flipping myself...
Rehearsal was good today. But then business was down. And on that note I loaded our things into the car. The phone rang a name I haven't seen in weeks, so I answered. I always thought only the self was capable of thinking up the worst things about us. But no. The voice told me things darker than I could ever imagine. Things that weren't true. But that's just it. The voice is just a voice. The voice doesn't have eyes, and so the voice can't see me. Really see me. See the good that everyone else sees in five minutes. See the good that can only be seen at heart level.
I reached down to where my bootstraps live, and I gave the biggest tug I've been able to muster in a while. I bared my teeth in a growl that turned smile. And just like mom said, it stuck that way. It carried me.
And for the first time since I started my Tuesday learning time, I was ruler of my body. She didn't fight me for nerves or tears. She let me lead her by the bridle. We've started down a path, and since I do what I'm told, I'll continue down it. And as I'm telling myself, I'm going to power walk.
Back in the car with my sidekick, I hummed through some of my recent compositions. So I didn't notice the entrance of Father Time, lord of traffic and parking and how long it takes my dog to sniff stuff for two blocks. And there we were, face to face with the eyes. See, if the voice can't see me, then this one must be the eyes. Because this one sees me. As I am. And gives dose after dose of wonderful just based on the vision and nothing else. But the eyes were... full of something I've never seen. The eyes see me, and I see the eyes, but because we've never been precisely eye-to-eye, I didn't know what to do... I'm not sure there was anything to do. Eyes and voices, even ears, and especially mouths all have these things happen from time to time, and it's not as ugly as they think it is. But I was a bit paralyzed. I'm probably still processing the information somewhere... deep in some corneal tissue... because yes, my eyes may be a little clouded on this one. But, here's the thing. One of my favorite and least favorite things about the eyes is that they don't always see their own reflection. It's my favorite because if they could see, they would know how beautiful they are, and then they would cease to be as beautiful. (And as they are, they are simply one of the most beautiful.) It's my least favorite because it hurts them. They tell me not to waste a second on their hurt, but that advice is futile... because yes, I'm head over corneas. I wish sometimes that they could borrow all of our eyes, take a peek in, and see what we see--so, so very much more than they think. I want to give them the gift of my eyes. I want to give them the gift of rest. The rest is coming.
I tightened the laces of my heartstrings, tied them in a bow, and continued down the street into a dark home. I could already see two shadowy figures on the ceiling. Yes, while I was gone, there had been an invasion of Evanston proportions. It was my turn to curse. Yet after all of the ups and downs, I thought it funny that once again, this one event--catching or squishing or not catching or squishing an invader--could be another part of the coaster. It turned out there were four of them--two small, one medium, and one large (or prehistoric, as we used to call it). I've heard hairspray is good for these types of things, so I tested it on a small. This resulted in a dead centipede stuck to my ceiling.  There it remains. One more small I shoe smacked. One more I tried to spray--it dropped to the floor, and I stomped. Disgusting. The last was the big one--about the length of a key. It was in the corner, so I had one gym shoe shot at it. I pitched. I missed, but it dropped to the floor anyway. And unlike the trophy on my ceiling, I have no idea where this one has got to. In my nightmare, I will awake with it crawling on my face. In reality, it is probably back in the walls. In reality, too, it is disgusting. Then again, maybe I'm just using the wrong set of eyes...
On days like today, when I look at my life--angry people, endings, things that won't even begin, three jobs, one fur ball, one very active brain, more ambition than I know how to wrangle, and everything that lives beneath the surface of all that, in me... People ask me how I am, and I put a lot of stock in my answer being truthfully positive. But days like today in the context of this life are a fantastic reminder that sometimes it's enough just to be standing on my two old gymnast feet. Though I'm so proud of myself for how I tamed each metal car today, I also remember tonight that sometimes it's enough to just stand.

Independence Day...

We spent the first day of the New Year driving home along the lake.
You asked me what if any resolutions did I make.
I went home and made some.
Wish I could say I've grown some.

Now I propose a toast over a long awaited beer,
"To a better second half of this shit storm of a year."
It's bound to be better.
We'll both make it better.

She and I leave the bar and head out in the heat.
The fireworks boom as we walk down the street.
The sounds travel through me.
Reset something in me.

Boom-Gonna change,
Bang-Be much stronger,
Crack-Time to move on,
Scream-Let it go.

And the truth explodes right before your eyes,
And you find freedom,
On Independence Day.
The truth explodes right before your eyes,
And you find freedom,
On Independence Day.

I'm home again, feeling much more like myself,
Storing all that weight I carried in a box up on a shelf.
I pray that it stays there.
"Oh please just stay up there."

I stroll the street I've grown to love, basking in my new-found light,
But Father Time and Larry Life aren't done with me tonight.
I know that look.
I can't take that look.

The way you pull me in, I know you've had a pop or three,
And with one touch, I feel my grip slip slowly far away from me.
My insides well up.
Might as well give up.

Boom-I can't change,
Bang-There's my weakness,
Crack-I can't move,
Scream-Don't know how, Not quite yet, Must hold on.

And the truth explodes right before our eyes.
I've lost all freedom,
On Independence Day.
When the truth explodes right before our eyes,
We've lost all freedom,
On Independence Day.

When the truth explodes right before your eyes,
How do you find freedom,
On Independence Day?