i can't take it in

"Can't Take It In" - Imogen Heap
"Wunderkind" - Alanis Morissette
"Into the West" - Annie Lennox

my anthems this year. this year of change. of new decades and new horizons. of my girlhood and adulthood juxtaposed. death nearer. sadness infinitely more intense for the brevity of life. i feel that. longing and wonder... as intensely as ever.

i just danced wildy around the living room in the dark. felt the freedom. the rug soft under my feet. trying not to rouse the neighbors below but ultimately not caring. was completely out of breath after three songs.

moved to the fire escape for fresh air. the sun had long set but there was still that glow in the west, vivid degrees of blue coating the sky, common at this most magical hour of night. i played "wunderkind" and "can't take it in" from the living room, wafting out the window to my fire escape platform - my vista to the world. the living room glowed warmly with one candle inside, looking as inviting as a secret cottage found suddenly in the woods with a fire, slippers and tea ready after you've danced with the faeries.

but i remained outside with the invigorating breeze blowing my skirt up, the varying blues seeping into me, melding with my spirit. knowing i am the 'joan of arc', that 'groundbreaker', "destined to reign, destined to roam..."

claiming that promise of my youth that feels like a joke when examining my capabilities, but not when i realize God is still the same as s/he ever was. and this means... it is all true!!?!! i can hardly believe the beauteous mystery of the creator of my youth is IT. reality. the real reality. behind the thin veil i can see through any moment i stop and breathe. "i can't take it in..."

the stars began to peek out. the blues richening. fog dotting the peaks. the tower flashing comfortingly. then... "into the west" drifts through the air... and i weep. weeping with a smile. with joyous knowing. with surety that "the white gulls will call" and the "ship will come to carry me home." oh, that this beauty is but a hint. i tingle, i thrill, i shiver with the possibility of more in the afterlife.

then an old anthem from my early twenties: "only if" - enya. "for the promises, there is the sky/ and for the heavens are those who can fly... when there's a journey, you follow the sun/ when there is love and you reach for the one/ and for the broken heart, there is the sky/ and for tomorrow are those who can fly... if you really want to, you can seize the day/ only if you want to, will you fly away..."

still mine. is it true? has it been true all along? "when there is love and you reach for the one..." since the days i would listen incessantly to this song, "the one" has come. my most deepest of dreams came true... what else lies ahead? i can't take it in.

these songs, the soundtrack of my life. past and present. evolving. new. yet the same. a constant thread. i can feel the ocean over the hills. can't see it. but know it's there. and that is enough.

i come in from the magic of outdoors to the glowing cottage of home. one last song. "lazy days" - enya. not so much the lyrics but the music. it somehow returns me to carefree days of childhood. i soar. i remember that night over five years ago in LA when i pirouetted alone like a passion-filled ballerina in the dark to this song. it takes me there again and i think i shall go and dance more. now. because i believe. ____________________________________________________
are you ready to come with me?
to stop a moment in the intensity of our days and look at those varying shades of blue in the twilight sky?
to take in the fresh breeze?
to reflect on fog or cloud whisp dotting the sunset?
to hear a strain of music and let the notes overtake you with ecstasy?

let us peek behind the veil together. like lucy, walking through the fur coats in a plain, unromantic, confining wardrobe, suddenly finding ourselves beyond...

in the place we hoped against hope for. didn't believe in. cursed the thought of - too painful to contemplate. but that deep down inside we knew was there all along.

rebirth

I am too tired to write. I want a nap. I love the breeze. I love Noe. The quiet (but for the occasional bus or train) corner of church and 30th. The coziness and intimacy of this city hood. I love my life.

I am working through issues. Fearful. Held back when I really want to break forth with passion. I peek out oft times, releasing just a bit of what wells up inside. I am not without fervor. But I have SO much more where that came from ... a world of fire to release.

If only I could see to the other side of this struggle and be there: At peace in my mind. No longer beating myself up, wishing I did or didn’t say things. Wishing I was bold enough to take the world by storm. In many ways, I am and I have. But this woman is ready for MORE.

It is time, I sense. Time for the part that got left behind. Time for a holistic return to my true self: to my girlhood audacity, my constant childhood state of wild creativity, my wholehearted, genuine intention and trust in others ... with the wisdom of an adult who see the world as it is, has fears and yet trusts just the same. Rises above to see the God who holds her and everyone together.

May I be the woman who holds beauty and pain tenderly in her palms, building sand castles with failure, skipping through fields with imperfection, soaring on waves with incompleteness. Making her home with freedom ... and allowing others to find the same in their own strange way.

I celebrate you, life, because even when I think I have reached stagnation or hoplessness, you turn around and surprise me with growth, newness, possibility and the promise of rebirth after every death.