In going through my desk this morning, I came upon a CD that said in black sharpie “Music for my Siblings” in Sheenas handwriting. She had made us all a mix tape some time before the great adversities of the last half decade or so. Maybe it is because I am a child of the 80’s, but I find few sweeter love notes than a mix tape. I had a drive ahead of me today, so I grabbed the disk and popped it in the CD player of a car that, at the time the mix was created, I would never have imagined myself driving around in a life that I still find foreign and surreal (and beautiful, and exciting and amazing every day). Listening to her selections of Willie, Norah, Joss Stone, Ben Harper, The Be Good Tanyas, Phish, Doug Martsch, Sublime, The White Stripes, Black Eyed Peas, and others I contemplated the life that was when Sheena had the time and presence to give. To *be* a gift. The life that was mine when the gift was presented, and the road between there and here. Metamorphosis is sticky business. The butterfly has benefit of a cocoon to hide its fragile somewhat hideous transformation. We humans are not so lucky. Many an early morning I have lain awake wishing to be a caterpillar once more. But life is not a journey of which you can grow weary and simply turn around. To quit is to die. Listening to the final track of “It’s a Beautiful World” sung by the child wonder Aselin Debison I was overcome by the reality of that. It *is* a beautiful world and treacherous too. Some caterpillars never make their way out of that cocoon mired in the difficulty and betrayal of it all. Life is a continual labor, a relentless birthing of self. The only way is through.
Posted on: Tue, 20 May 2014 23:05:35 +0000
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