coming full circle
i find myself sitting here at the laramar reception desk in december listening to woodface, in specific "fall at your feet." i have this sharp memory of being here three years ago, listening to this song, and deciding that it had some message to tell me.
first of all, three years ago, it was inconceivable to me that i'd go three MONTHS without speaking to my friends. my friends who i saw every day. that i had lived with and talked to and shared with (thoughts, feelings, every little thing that came to my head, my pot, their pot, our cats, clothes, food, blankets, our insatiable and obsessive love of the weather channel). and i had done it. begrudgingly and in a whirlwind of pain.
and this woodface. i was the musical one. the one who loved music, that is. and i had introduced my friend...ann marie, sman, to the bulk of the music in our apartment it had seemed, to me. AMP, her moniker. sman, was mine. smussy ann marie. these things were organic and ever-changing, like the childhood home i had grown up in and learned such naming techniques, but sman had stuck.
but, she had given me this strange fondness for dave matthews (which had gone on to slightly embarrass me and which i would not admit to in nearly all circumstances outside of our home) and a gift i would never be able to thank her for. crowded house. woodface. neil and tim finn. wow. (that and a truly comprehensive love and understanding of the simpsons, but we're talking music here.)
and i sat at my temp job at laramar, listening to "fall at your feet," a song that never failed to get me anyway, and i heard redemption and forgiveness and help and i heard:
"The finger of blame has turned upon itself
And I’m more than willing to offer myself
Do you want my presence or need my help
Who knows where that might lead"
i don't know what i was thinking. i was trying to take responsibility long before i knew how.
but now, sitting in the same seat, three years later, having done a lot of work to get where i am today, i have a chance of change. and i have an inkling of how to take responsibility. i have an amend letter to send to ann marie. this process is scary. it's humbling. my sponsor says, "it should be a little painful."
hmm.
later, on the album, there's a song: "four seasons in one day." it seems like that all the time.
first of all, three years ago, it was inconceivable to me that i'd go three MONTHS without speaking to my friends. my friends who i saw every day. that i had lived with and talked to and shared with (thoughts, feelings, every little thing that came to my head, my pot, their pot, our cats, clothes, food, blankets, our insatiable and obsessive love of the weather channel). and i had done it. begrudgingly and in a whirlwind of pain.
and this woodface. i was the musical one. the one who loved music, that is. and i had introduced my friend...ann marie, sman, to the bulk of the music in our apartment it had seemed, to me. AMP, her moniker. sman, was mine. smussy ann marie. these things were organic and ever-changing, like the childhood home i had grown up in and learned such naming techniques, but sman had stuck.
but, she had given me this strange fondness for dave matthews (which had gone on to slightly embarrass me and which i would not admit to in nearly all circumstances outside of our home) and a gift i would never be able to thank her for. crowded house. woodface. neil and tim finn. wow. (that and a truly comprehensive love and understanding of the simpsons, but we're talking music here.)
and i sat at my temp job at laramar, listening to "fall at your feet," a song that never failed to get me anyway, and i heard redemption and forgiveness and help and i heard:
"The finger of blame has turned upon itself
And I’m more than willing to offer myself
Do you want my presence or need my help
Who knows where that might lead"
i don't know what i was thinking. i was trying to take responsibility long before i knew how.
but now, sitting in the same seat, three years later, having done a lot of work to get where i am today, i have a chance of change. and i have an inkling of how to take responsibility. i have an amend letter to send to ann marie. this process is scary. it's humbling. my sponsor says, "it should be a little painful."
hmm.
later, on the album, there's a song: "four seasons in one day." it seems like that all the time.
