“She’s imperfect but she tries
She is good but she lies…
She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie
She is gone but she used to be mine.”
I remember watching the movie, The Waitress, years ago, which has now been adapted into a play and the soundtrack written by Sara Bareilles. One of my favorite singer/songwriters. The story is about a waitress with a beautiful heart whom everyone loves except the person she loves, her controlling husband. Her love for him overshadows the love for herself. She is better to others than she is to herself. Like those of us who want to see the good in everyone, we hope that the good in us will somehow make the ones we love value us more. She struggles to find her voice as it has been silenced for so long. Through her gift of baking, she realizes her passion, her dreams, and begins to imagine the life she always knew she wanted but never thought she could have.
Sometimes little parts of us die when we go through things but if we can push through hard enough & long enough, we spark the flame that ignites the fire in us. We may be broken for a while. We may lose ourselves for a while. Hopefully, for just a little while.
Seeing the parallels to my own life, I was immediately drawn to this song. Inducing those raindrops that fall only from the eyes. At first listen, it sounded like a love song of love lost and it is. Listening more, I discovered it was a song of losing oneself. The person she used to be. I misplaced the girl I was a long time ago and I miss her almost daily. I see glimpses of her sometimes and get excited. It gives me hope that one day soon she will return even better than before.
If I showed you my flaws
If I couldn’t be stong
Tell me honestly, would you still love me the same?
I’ve had this song playing consistently at random intervals over the last few weeks. Literally everywhere. What message is the universe attempting to relay to me? And it got me to thinking…
Does this type of love still exist? Do these type of people still exist? Rarely are situations perfect. Never are people perfect. With this truth and if perfection was never going to happen but was still the goal, would it make a difference? If they have everything to offer or nothing at the moment, is that enough? Is that person any less worth loving?
Is there unfaltering loyalty these days? Can we depend on another to be there no matter what? To love us when it’s beyond hard. What about when we don’t even love ourselves? Can we say that we’ll have that home we call him or her? Does love now change based on condition? situation? mercury retrograde?
Or are we prone to flee at the first sign of uncomfortableness? A situation we’re not used to, not equipped for: job loss, poverty, illness, addiction, family clashes, etc. Can we push through? Is the bond strong enough?
If we were honest, would we still love the same?
It came to mind how we find distractions.
People, places, things.
Who do we/What do we use for our leisure, our pleasure, our sedation, our replacement to stay high
Away from the truth or the pain or missing someone or everyday reality
Afraid to feel so we numb
A sip here| A line there | Yet another warm body |
It seems like harmless fun and it is for awhile until the “fun” becomes habitual and repetitive.
When do we say no to ourselves?
As the new year came in, I thought of how many people would be spending their time getting blazed, lit to the skies–To celebrate the now, new year. How many people spend their days and nights staying in a constant state of euphoria, buzz, high? To deal. How many people spend time jumping from person to person, man, woman, or both…in search of a peace they cannot find, because its too difficult to deal with themselves? By themselves. With themselves.
No judgments. My hope is that we finally find a way to deal with what is, what was, and what now. To allow ourselves fun without fake. Happiness without the temporary high. That its no longer about being numb. Its about living a life worth feeling. Being fully present. That hey…maybe its okay to be a little high sometimes. High off life. And maybe an occasional, non-habit forming aid.