Wednesday, February 14, 2007

My Secret Valentine

This was not a typical day of any kind, much less Valentine's Day. The weather here in Northeast Ohio wreaked havoc all across our little world. I feel like I've been working a 24-hour shift -- working at home, with children, is DEFINITELY NOT LIBERATING.


But what has been liberating is that a few days ago, I got a Valentine. A really heartfelt Valentine. It was a stupefying, enormous gesture of hope. I was entirely unprepared for it.


That bothers me. But it's real. I've had my angry head so far up the ass of heartbreak and confusion that in some corners of my heart there is no daylight behind doors I kept closed. I live in fear that someone will open them. So I'm turning into the person who left me on the discard pile, and that's a fate worse than any death I can imagine.


What a wonder. Can I tell you what a wonder it was to find this person making an extraordinary reach across an abyss that I cannot describe here? It was nothing short of a pure and beautiful act of bravery, wit, and boundless optimism.


What possibilities have I been overlooking? Something tells me that behind those closed doors are perishable goods.

A little less than a month ago I had the privelege of catching the Iris Dement show at the Beachland. Her songs bear this beautiful simplicity and almost jagged honesty at the same time, making them just irresistable.

This one made me cry. There I was, standing in the standing-room-only Beachland beside a young local impresario who joined me there to talk about musical possibilities in the region, weeping quietly to myself.
Because at the heart of this song is the thing that keeps me from being ready when a man reaches across the abyss to touch my heart. And it's the same thing that produces the fear that stops people from making that reach. But at some level hidden from my ego, making contact was imagined, wished for, even.

So this Valentine, almost a hymn, is for me, and for him, and for everyone who has been through it so many times that you can't bear to try anymore. But you can, and you will.

When my mornin' comes around, no one else will be there
so I won't have to worry about what I'm supposed to say
and I alone will know that I climbed that great big mountain
and that's all that will matter when my mornin' comes around

When my mornin' comes around, I will look back on this valley
at these sidewalks and alleys where I lingered for so long
and this place where I now live will burn to ash and cinder
like some ghost I won't remember
When my mornin' comes around
When my mornin' comes around, from a new cup I'll be drinking
and for once I won't be thinking that there's something wrong with me
and I'll wake up and find that my faults have been forgiven
and that's when I'll start living
When my mornin' comes around

3 Comments:

At February 15, 2007 5:35 AM, Blogger MichaelBains said...

...and for everyone who has been through it so many times that you can't bear to try anymore. But you can, and you will.

{deeeeeep_breath} Yeppers. Still breathing and heart's still beatin' so...

LOL No matter how nerve-rattling "love" has been, I find I've yet to become so disillusioned that I must run and hide from someone on whom my heart and head seem to be in agreement.

Onward, yo! ({-'

I remember going to the Beachland once, for an open-mike poetry reading. As those are wont to go, there were some really good and some ..huh?.. poems read. lol!

The quirk was, there were a couple guys doing musical accompaniment and it kinda through me off on my recitation. It was (is) actually a song, and I couldn't remember some of the words cuz I'd always only sung it while picking the chords.

None-the... The crowd was very kind, so I left the evening on a decent note.

A beautiful winter's morning for you, MM.

:)

 
At February 15, 2007 11:34 AM, Blogger Mando Mama said...

LOL, I have a hard time imagining how frustrating it probably would be to have someone else's tunes back up what is playing in your head. No thanks!

Stepping outside the bounds in relationship is not unlike open-mic. It takes guts, creativity, and a high degree of comfort with rejection. Sounds like a job description! But it's true. Can't win if you don't play, I suppose. It's just that I'm more team oriented, lol...

Cheers, Mr. Brains!
MM

 
At February 15, 2007 2:00 PM, Blogger MichaelBains said...

:)

 

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