Moment of Clarity
by
As I was driving to work yesterday, I was tuned to WTIX and heard an old Chicago song (I can’t now for the life of me recall which song it was). Then I switched to NPR and heard Garrison Keallor read this poem by Michael Blumenthal. And in the span of that six or seven minutes, this topsy turvy world of mine made sense.
We can worry, fret, and consternate. And I do, way too often. But life continues to move forward.
Things are not as they seem: the innuendo of everything makes
itself felt and trembles towards meanings we never intuited
or dreamed.Take, for example, how the warbler, perched on a
mere branch, can kidnap the day from its tediums and send us
heavenwards. . . .
Each year, days swivel and diminish along their inscrutable
axes, then lengthen again until we are bathed in light we were not
prepared for. . . .
When I was that kid hearing that Chicago song (whichever song it was), I had no fear my future would be secure. I read a lot, played with my dolls, and my friends, we played kickball in the street, and the girls curled each others’ hair. Our job was to do well in school and to tend to the few household chores we were assigned. Oh, the free time we had!
And in the background was the music of Chicago and Supertramp and The Rolling Stones and Genesis and The Who (my older brothers controlled the radio dial back then). All those songs of growing up, falling in love, becoming a member of adulthood. It was all so alluring. We couldn’t wait to arrive!
But my reality of adulthood has been about 65% worry. Worry about money, about job security, about my future, now Sun’s future.
And yesterday, hearing a song that took me back to my youth, and hearing a poem about the simplicity of a bird distracting one’s entire day in such a lovely way, well, it made me laugh. Can it be that life really is that simple? Have I made it more serious than it deserves?
I graduated from high school over 20 years ago. And I’ve accomplished a lot. And I’ve NEVER been homeless or without money. I’ve been involuntarily jobless for less than 30 days in that entire 20 year span.
It’s silly of me to waste my time, my nerves, on worrying about this terrible shoe that I fear may one day fall. Even if it ever does fall, things work out. I’ve seen it. Work out. Things always do work out, even if in ways one could never, ever have predicted. So why worry?
Now, how do I manage to hold on to this clarity for more than 48 hours?
It’s funny to me, that despite being younger and stupider, we go through the same things. I worry like it’s breathing but those moments of clarity sure are a relief. I guess my way of working things is freaking out about them and so there’s relief when it’s okay versus not being prepared and things going horribly wrong. It’s the opposite way, I know. But you are you and you’ve done so much in your life (with much more to go!) and I hope to accomplish even half of what you’ve done. =) You rock!
.-= Jane Moneypeny´s last blog ..Courage =-.
Oh boy, have I ever wondered how to hang on to that before.
I’m hoping it comes with age. *fingers crossed*
.-= Amie aka MammaLoves´s last blog ..Did I Mention I Knit? =-.
One of the benefits, I guess, to having had the other shoe drop in your life (several times, in my case) is that you learn that things will always be okay and will work out, and that worrying over the other shoe dropping can’t be how you spend your life.
So, take it from me–you will be fine no matter what. Get out there and enjoy New Orleans and your wonderful family and friends enough for both of us–since I have the misfortune to live in Columbia SC (and, see, somehow I’m surviving that too)!
.-= suz´s last blog ..If You Can’t Beat Them.. =-.
Twenty five or six to four. No? I can’t think of it either.
.-= Ed´s last blog ..Wanted: Proper Functioning Sniffer =-.
moment of clarity=Satori. I suggest we get tattoos on our hands saying just that–Satori.
.-= leendaluu´s last blog .. =-.