then learning to love might be my way back to sea…. – Public Pervert – Interpol.
I love the lyrics to this song. I like the title even better. I love how it suggests things so terribly naughty, but the song is far too pretty to be a perversion…. not a single dirty word in it.
“There is love to be made
So just stay here for this while
Perhaps heart strings resuscitate
The fading sounds of your life
How many days will it take to land
How many ways to reach abandon?
Oh, you and I”
*****
Interesting week this week to say the least. I was surprised by a few things, including the addition of new people to my landscape… quite unexpectedly… funny how a watched pot never boils but an untended one tends to boil over? I’ve had my eye on alot of pots for a long time, and they’re starting to bubble, it’s a rewarding feeling.
Now, cooking analogies aside, I’ve been surprised this week about how my perception is different from last. I just re-read my last post, and I can see that I have a different perspective today than I did then. Good. Progress… now mark it and move forward.
So, now that my perception has changed, I can see certain things recurring, certain opportunities re-presenting themselves, and still other avenues changing shape. I can feel this process taking place, and am making a conscious effort to foster new attitudes with concrete information to back them up. For example, one wouldn’t bite a hand extended in friendship, but one wouldn’t trade one’s trust for a token either.
I’m feeling something this week that I haven’t felt in some time… excitement. I had come to learn not to allow myself to feel this in an effort to cope with disappointment. This disappointment seeming perpetual…. While this allowed me to avoid the displeasurable emotion, it also robbed me of whatever possibility of pleasure there is to derive from anything.
My daughter and I had an interesting exchange last Saturday. I am well aware that my words, when spoken, apply as much to myself as to anyone else, and she prompted a thought from me (and a wise response) that I had never contemplated in such simple terms.
We were eating, and she was being made the brunt of a joke. She asked why it was that she was always the brunt of a joke (“why is everyone always picking on me?”). I promptly replied to her… “because you ask for it. The trick of the game is to figure out HOW you’re asking for it, and and do something else”. I personally always expected someone else to teach me HOW…. it’s been a long road for me to understand that I already know HOW.
And then I started thinking…
Children are so precious. They are little reflections of our happier, innocent selves… the ones we would return in time and protect from even the slightest discomfort…. for whom we would construct a world so fantastic, so full of hope and promise, comfort, and love that it would transcend our reality….
They are also our blank canvasses upon which we paint the future… their understanding of our understanding of our world is so important as to be crucial to the fate of our humanity… whether or not our society survives.
I think I’m starting to get a grip on the fact that if this is all so… then precious also am I. My actions, intentions… towards myself are as important as those I exercise towards others… in fact they are their root.
I truly think I am a public pervert, if there is such a thing… and I think this morning I can heave a sigh, smile, and appreciate myself fully for it.