At the same time(ish), I got distracted and wandered over to Facebook to discover that I was tagged in a photo my sister took today of Scarlet “flying” at the three county fair we have in Northampton this weekend. My girl can fly, don’t you think?
I’m feeling none of the power that this song usually gives me. I’m feeling none of the power that seeing photos of Scarlet usually gives me. I’m feeling none of the power of anything, really, and that includes writing and photography, but here I am and I’ll give it a shot. Every time there’s a turning point, or a rough patch – whether in anxiety, marriage, parenting, family, grief, etc. I always wonder if I’ll make it. I see happy, whole people and I may have been one yesterday and I may be one again tomorrow, but I’m not one today. And I always wonder – can I make it? Can I do this? The answer is most likely “yes.”
Supertasters aren’t always meant to drink alcohol and eat spicy food (I’m a cheap date). Superfeelers aren’t always meant to get things right the first time, the second time, or even the 42nd time. We’re not always built for transitions – the ones that seem big and don’t hit us enough, or the ones that seem smaller, and bring us to our knees. Or the ones that happen all at once and you can’t make sense of them. You can’t break them up, piece by piece, into palatable, BLAND bites. You just can’t do that. Supertasters and superfeelers can’t always stomach the powerful. And life, isn’t it always a bit powerful? A bit much?
I think this song speaks to many of us. In my own delusions of grandeur, I like to think it speaks to me especially powerfully. We were at a 20 year anniversary party for my in-laws, and there was a particularly moving ceremony before the party. Cousin Leo paused in his professional photographing, to grab a movie for us. What a gift. Look for cameos by Des and me.
I’m scared of fair and amusement park rides if I’ve never been on them, and I’m barely comforted by seeing young children (including my own) go on these rides ahead of me, and get off them flawlessly and calmly. I worry I wouldn’t be a candidate for hypnosis or anaesthesia, even though the latter has happened successfully twice, for oral surgery, and the former surely happens every day to some degree, by creepy viral marketing or by someone telling me to absolutely NOT think of a bluebird.
Sometimes I get blocks with things I’d otherwise be good at – if it’s not easily learned in general or just by me. I shrug it off and run. Piano lessons. Stick shift driving lessons. Math. Math, which I could do well when I really had to get it done.
Every night, in times of trouble or joy, I let go. I let it go. Every night, I fall asleep. And mostly, quite successfully. I succumb to dreams and darkness – a breaking and healing journey into the vast unknown. I let go daily. And that’s astonishing.
And this week, I will let go. Of Scarlet. Into the world. Into the world of kindergarten and learning and books and complex friendships. Skinned knees and cafeteria meals, in the faces of snuggly blankets, naptime and recess at the same time.
I hesitated to post this next unflattering photo, mainly because I wasn’t following my own advice in which I tell subjects to stick out that forehead and accentuate that jawline! I do have a strong jawline in real life. Anyway, Scarlet took this photo. It was her. This is how she sees me sometimes. This is how she saw me one day. And that’s good enough for me to share.