Tag: blog

thankful…

thank you India, thank you terror, thank you disillusionment, thank you frailty…

Alanis Morissette wrote a song back in the late 90’s after having gone on a trip to India. It was a well deserved break that she certainly deserved. According to an interview with MTV, Alanis, up to that point, had not taken a break in her career. This song was written after her spiritually awakening trip. It is essentially a thank you to the Universe for all of the things in her life that have shaped who she had become and lessons learned.

Having just celebrated Thanksgiving here in the United States, I had this song on my mind. And while I have not taken a journey to India for relaxation and spiritual guidance/discovery, I have had some time and experiences that have helped me to learn and grow. Experiences that have shown me how important it is to not only take care of others, but to take care of myself first.

In her song, Alanis thanks terror, frailty, and disillusionment. She thanks providence, disillusionment, nothingness, clarity, and silence. She speaks of remembering one’s divinity, unabashedly bawling your eyes out, and about allowing yourself to experience grief.

I would have to mimic that sentiment. So many feelings, experiences, and just overall stuff – good and bad – have shaped who I am today. Am I done growing? Are you? No. I honestly believe that we are growing and changing in one way or another every single day of our lives. For me, it would go something like this:

Thank you, COVID.
Thank you, loneliness.
Thank you, hospital staff.
Thank you, music.
Thank you, anxiety.
Thank you, Twitter family.

And yeah, I balled my eyes our a few times. I’m hanging on to my divinity. Some friendships have faded but now I have new friends. It’s all going to be okay.

Thank U.

k

keep singing…

It has been a rough couple of days. I am feeling a little lost today. Even trying to find the music to soothe my soul is not happening easily today. As I scroll through songs, I just am not connecting. Rather depressing. And to be honest, I can't be ashamed to share that I too have been struggling. The last several months haven't been easy. And this week, things got a little more complicated.

Where are we now?
Will we ever get back
To the place we once were?
I'm afraid

Afraid of what may be
I'm losing sleep
Worry, she is taunting me
But my hope is still there

My love is strong
But I've lost control
Of what what was to be
Hanging on to that hope

Dreams of what could have been
Seemingly slip away
Faith will overcome worry
Hope. She is strong

Not sure where this is going
Scattered thoughts to match
The turmoil in my mind
Hang on

Lord, don't let me go.

k


it’s autumn now…

It was springtime the last time you were here. It was springtime the last time I felt your skin against mine. You’re not gone. Just not home. I miss you. What happens next? I just don’t know.

I pray for your strength. I pray for the day you get to come back to me. I pray you don’t give up and that you fight this weakness that tries to break you.

Thinking too much brings tears. Worry is constant. I just don’t know what’s next. God help us. Help me.

When will this craziness end? It’s been so long. Far too long.

It’s like I’ve been living a different life. Because I have. So different. I’m thankful for the girls. They help so much. I’m thankful for friends who reach out and care about us.

Music has been here to help. She would have been here anyway, but right now she is my friend. And this friend has kept me sane.

Please God help me to know it will be okay. Because it was spring time the last time he was here in my arms.

And it’s autumn now.

k

it always comes back to the music…

Anxiety. Worry. She had experienced those feelings many times before. But this time the feelings felt amplified. She was so happy to know he was coming home. The last few days in the hospital had been more than miserable for him. So it was a relief to know that stay was over.

After the first night of him being home, struggling to do normal every day tasks, and just witnessing his pain, she noticed something else. His eyes. They were different. Something had happened. His spirit, his soul, broken. It was like looking into the eyes of one who had been trapped, backed into a corner and having to fight for survival. There was confusion. Fear. This was not the same man whom she had taken to the emergency room just eight days before.

Just listening to him recount the poor treatment he received during the last three days in the hospital kept the tears flowing. She could hear the pain. The struggle. She admitted to him that she could see the change in his eyes. He agreed with the description she gave. And it saddened him to see her so overwhelmed.

They knew things would get better. And over the next days, it did. His strength was returning. He was clearly on the mend. Thank God. Slowly, that broken and traumatized look left his eyes. But even now, she was able to see a hint of that brokenness. In time, that too will fade, but not be forgotten.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

That little blurb above is true. It was in a sort of story form in my brain this week. My husband was in the hospital and had an horrific experience. We are both incredibly hurt and angered. I plan on writing a letter to the hospital, but wanted to wait until it wasn’t written like a screaming fit. I need to be able to speak clearly and concisely when I rip them a new one. Right?

During the time that I was home, hanging on every word the nurses gave me, and they certainly did not give me them all I found out, I happened to “reconnect” with one of my very best friends. Turns out she has a podcast now! She is involved with a big group of indie musicians who share their music on social media and on Spotify. One of the artists that I was introduced to is named Paul Nixon. He has a new song called “It’s Alright Now.”

The night that I first heard this song, I was an anxious mess. Then this song. Just BAM! It was exactly what I needed. I honestly felt like it was a way for God to let me know that it is going to be alright. It truly was like a worship song to me at that moment. You can read a review of it in the Indiependent. The review written by Sam Lambeth describes it perfectly as “Soothing, raspy, repentant. Majestic, melodic, magnificent. There aren’t enough words to describe those first few seconds as you adjust your ears to the gruff beauty of Nixon’s delivery.” Easily one I could play over and over. And have.

First and foremost, I thank God for sparing my husband and bringing him home to me. And I thank Him also for gifting so many with great talent. To those who possess those gifts, thank you for sharing them!

And as is the usual for me, in just about every situation – good or bad – there is a song for that. Because, it always comes back to the music.

Thanks for reading.

k