“Little Wonders” By Rob Thomas

Lady Lazarus.

I took the day off today, for many reasons, all of them good and justified.

I only got 4 hours of sleep, again.

I am explosive with anger that sits just beneath the flimsy surface of my resolve.

I have prayed and still have no more peace to prove it.

And it all just makes me feel a little more dead on the inside.

It’s a mental sick day. And I felt my husband’s disdain for my decision like a snowball to the face this morning, when, upon returning to bed after feeding our son, I had to ask him to move back over to his side of the bed.

“You’re taking a half day, [riiiiight]?”

“No, I took a full day.”

Stone cold silence.

And then I’m convicted, guilty, a self-indulgent child who can’t rise above it and get over herself and go on with life. At least this is what the imaginary evil voice inside my head translates it as.

I gotta stop listening to that guy….

So, I finally get myself up and drag my butt to the Sparrows, my coffee shop. It’s mine because I sit here and BEW every single time. I can be myself with all the other thinkers and artist types and listen to pretty music and eat croissant and drink fancy coffee drinks and think my thoughts without judgement or fear or anyone I know. It’s beautiful. I’m safe to hear the still small voice and respond with clarity.

And the drink on the menu that hits my eye (after I’ve already awkwardly ordered a decaf and two croissant [what? I’m hungry…]) is called the Lady Lazarus. It’s honey and lavender.

UUUUUUGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH

Lady Lazarus, who dies and rises each time, coming back a little bit, well, harsher, if you’re reading the Sylvia Plath poem.

The pain just makes me feel more alive, if I’m being honest. There’s a much mightier sense of urgency when I’ve spent a few days feeling the anger, the jealousy, the sadness of not being able to work as I’d like to and create as I dream of creating. The pain never kills me; it always makes me wonder more and pray more and cry more and LIVE more. So there’s purpose to the pain, and that purpose is good.

It still HURTS, though.

And still, I go round after round with the anger and resentment.

This usually ends with anger pelting me somewhere below the belt and me nursing my wounds in a dark red wine.

The death occurs when, in the wake of the pain, the NOW, I still don’t move, I still don’t create, I stay on the lifeboat to starve and never let my toes touch the long-awaited earth or let my hands search for the fruit so I can eat it and be fed. Sometimes, when the anger subsides and I’ve had the wine and can relax a bit, I stay on the couch and glue my mind to whatever crappy show it can escape into on the TV.

And that’s when I die.

I am not Lady Lazarus.

There is no call on my life to feel this pain and then let it kill my soul.

My heart won’t forget how it felt. But it can forgive the feelings.

Sweet heart, you aren’t dying; you are crying.

Sweet, tender heart, you aren’t breaking; you are growing.

And when something grows, that means it is ALIVE!

Fiery anger, here is a lady who you can’t burn away. She is writing and singing and not dying to please you.

So, I write, I sing, I love my boys. This is my call; not to die, but to LIVE!

I am Lady Living. I am Lady Rising.

I am not Lady Lazarus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Let it go, let it roll right off your shoulder
Don’t you know the hardest part is over?
Let it in, let your clarity define you
In the end we will only just remember how it feels

Our lives are made in these small hours
These little wonders, these twists and turns of fate
Time falls away but these small hours
These small hours still remain

Let it slide, let your troubles fall behind you
Let it shine until you feel it all around you
And I don’t mind if it’s me you need to turn to
We’ll get by, it’s the heart that really matters in the end

Our lives are made in these small hours
These little wonders, these twists and turns of fate
Time falls away but these small hours
These small hours still remain

All of my regret will wash away somehow
But I cannot forget the way I feel right now
In these small hours
These little wonders, these twists and turns of fate
Yeah, these twists and turns of fate!

Time falls away, yeah but these small hours
And these small hours still remain, yeah
Ooh they still remain
These little wonders, oh these twists and turns of fate

Time falls away but these small hours
These little wonders still remain

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2 Comments

  1. Wonderful and true . I feel that there are these times when we are not living the way we desire . And it’s hard . When I look at these times (, and I do still have them )they always seem to be times in my life of great TRANSITION. I look for signs . Signs in myself and the things around me . Signs about where I need to go next to find fulfillment and happiness. Quite often , I already know what I might want to do , but fear and circumstances might keep me from moving . Even if it’s not possible yet just Keep moving forward . Keep dreaming and keep doing the little things that make you you . You might feel like the You has died , but I feel that a better You is yet to come. Evolution! Cut yourself some slack …. Allow yourself to be imperfect , and messy and lost . We all need to recharge once in a while ! It’s easier said than done 😛.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Annie, thank you 🙂
      It’s interesting you should mention signs, because I think society has this unwritten habit of ignoring them, but I know they are everywhere! And normally it’s so helpful and encouraging to encounter them. But we need to be vulnerable to them to be changed by them. And that is so hard sometimes. Totally worth it, though. 🙂

      Like

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