Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Letting Go

So much is lost and nothing is gained.
Keep seeing his treasures on the ground
And strewn around his sandaled feet...
Wondering how he felt
When the sun came out and
Where he was when the rain began to fall
And if he was drunk around it all.
Thinking that letting go could have been
His salvation and
Waiting for the sun might have been
What kept him moving
Or the beginning of his end.

We may never know the way it went.
Might never hear the tales or feel
The wind in his sails...Could always wonder
How he felt when the stars came out
And where he was when the snow started
To fall
And if he was drunk around it all.
Knowing that letting go was his salvation
And waiting for the sun was his cross.
But he'll never know that his letting go
Was truly everyone else's loss.

10/26/05

My First Thought

This is my first blog. Not necessarily my first thought, although while sitting at a keyboard trying to come up with that all important First Blog Thought, it FEELS like this could be the new-from-the-womb first thought to ever echo off the sides of my crib. The number of thoughts that go through my head in an hour? You'd think I could come up with something profound here. I'll just settle for putting something here to open the blog, then I'll possibly get profound later on.

Okay, here's my first blog thought: Last night I was flying home from a few days in LA, from the infamous Princess Bash. (Long story, one for another blog). I was sitting at Midway in Chicago, at Potbellies, having a sandwich, waiting for the moments to tick by...one...at...a...frickn'...time...until I could board my flight home. Then I heard, "Oh, they're de-icing the planes now, that's what's taking so long."

At that point, I started playing out every possible crash scenario that I could. I have a feeling that if I think about all the bad stuff and don't suppress it, it will be less likely to happen. So here's the way that went:

Person 1: They're de-icing the planes now.

My thought: Great...we'll crash, probably. I wonder how it would feel to be falling like a rock from 35,000 feet?

I started thinking who would tell my family.

I started thinking who would take my little wiener dog, Annie.

I started thinking I have taken probably a hundred flights and not one has crashed.

I started thinking maybe I've pushed the odds too far.

I chose my seat carefully, sitting by someone who looked compassionate (and near the over-wing emergency exit).

I made it home in record time.

Then the drive home: What if it's icy on the roads? What if I slide on the freeway? What if I start to pass this truck and it slides into me? What if, even though I have never, ever, ever, in all these years of driving fallen asleep, I fall asleep?

Blink...blink...I was in my bed watching TV, looking forward to another trip.

Oh, I have to go now. I have to cook something. What if I, even though I have never, ever gone off and left something on the stove cooking, go off and leave something cooking and burn the house down?

Pass the Xanax.