We Leave with Nothing but Love

Another day. Another lifetime.
February 19, 2009, 10:10 am
Filed under: Books, God, Living, Music, Relationships

Finally I am hearing those sounds, the songs of Jon Foreman and Sean Watkins. Fiction Family. What a perfect way to end the day. Finally letting out my sobs and hearing the harmonies so appropo to my heart.

However many times I leave my dorm room, every time I walk away, I know I cannot come back without some kind of change or some new direction for my soul. And this last week has held some of the most incredible changes ever. Excuse my silliness, but stress and wonderful days combined have made me tumble totally down this hill of soft patches and brambles. Here I sit, wondering who I am, wondering what I should do with myself, and wondering what someone else may be thinking too. 

Hamlet had an identity crisis, being a part of royal scandal and having the power of directing circumstances like a play. He made sure to prove his purpose by directing his play and taking vengeance. My story is much the opposite. By hell, I could never dare to take this situation in my own hands, just to see something so wonderful and confusing crumble away. Hamlet asks, “To be, or not to be?” and here I sit, in silence. I wonder, what happens next? What happens to a heart that has reached a point so very high, and is now being held midair in space somewhere? Lest I fall to the wiles of insanity, I must simply work, sleep, and wait. And wait. 

God help me, that I would not lose friends or forget the unmistakable truth I have in God, in all of this. Though I may be intoxicated in this drama, I feel the shrillest highs and lowest lows, and scanning the radio, a song has brought me home. 

We Ride

Sunrise over troubled waters, over troubled fathers

Of the sun

Of sun and sand.

Steady now,

You’re the loosest cannon

Not yet a man, but we’re not children

We’re not kids any more.

And we ride 

We ride, we ride

Down these living scenes

Down these living scenes, down these living scenes.

The winter comes, and the deep is free

Turn clever fleece to steal the breath from angry scenes.

Hold me down

Blood meets water 

Time is black white brought blue until you breathe


And we ride, we ride we ride

Down these living scenes.

I’m these living scenes.

~Jon Foreman and Sean Watkins, Sunset Cliffs