Hey, Soul Sister

That's the song of the week. The one that's always on when I turn on the radio. The one that I'm humming as I walk up the steps to get to my flat. The one that this week I love, and next week will become a terror to my inner heartstrings from overdose. It's by Train, in case you're not familiar and wish to look it up. However, I'm too lazy to provide a link here for you.

So, a muse:


LA's version of christmas lights
brakelights and headlights as far as the eye can see
flashing white and red, in long clumpy strings, wending their way imperfectly across the landscape
onramp meters add occasional pepperings of red and green staccato, in exclamation points of color not quite on the beaten path
like jingle bells being shaken, cars move and brake in an awkward jumble of squeaky breaks and balding tires - an odd cacophony for unison.

A few measures of this symphony:
Signal, move, brake. Brake, tense, brake. Signal, fumes, hold. Dart left, brake, swerve. Pull hair. Tap wheel, turn dial. Wince, turn dial. Grumble, roll eyes (at neighbor using cell phone). Brake. Battle nervous tic. Brake, gun engine, brake. Signal, move. Dart right. Watch mirror. Brake.

the rhythm of the dance is never quite in sync, but it gets the job done
 later, rather than sooner, the cars graduate from the year-round lighting masterpiece and move make the exit...some leaving tire tracks, others delicately extricating themselves with unbelievable panache.

the Sound of Silence

silence like a cancer grows/people talking without speaking/people listening without hearing/people writing songs that voices never share/ and no one dares/ disturb the sound of silence

I came up with a great phrase today: soliloquy of silence.

That, I do believe, says it all. At least, all for today.

Homeward Bound

For two weeks, I was on Cold Mountain terrain. I had a warm bed, plenty of drink, and good company to take away the cold and make it rosy and glowing.

I'd like to point out that being with people is hard. It takes energy and perseverance and understanding. It is waiting with (or without) sniping when the other person is finally ready to go. It's about compromise. It's trying and frustrating and makes you want to pull your hair out sometimes...or just go lose yourself in a good book or on a solitary stroll.

The solitary times are the reflections, the idea builders, the trying to figure out who you are changes. It's the quiet affirmations with the wind in your hair, the furious journal writing, the talking to God and feeling your soul grow times. They're the times when you beat yourself up the most and have the moments of clarity that give you direction. They're the times when you ponder status quo and decide to change. When songs of the heart steal through your veins and beat a tattoo on your conscience.

And, don't forget: it's the times with people that you remember. The lazy afternoon car rides, the watching movies, the playing games, the quoting books, the squabbling over spaghetti leftovers, the arguments that make you reaffirm those beliefs that you decided to uphold in the solitary moments.

We all need both. Just when I think I prefer solitude to waiting in the cold car for the last straggler family member, I think, "where would I be without this person, who has loved me and uplifted me...Who has contributed to my crankiness and who has done my share when I wasn't able to? Who woke me up with the exuberance of the morning and of loudly squawking when I wasn't willing to share?"

I'd be alone, and all the quiet walks and soul-piercing moments can't begin to compare to the joy of belonging, of being absolutely sure of another being's love for you - that arms are open, waiting to hug you, and that there is always someone rooting for you - on your side.

To be alone is absolutely required sometimes to keep the sanity alive. But I can't think of a worse fate than to be in silent solitude forever.