Music's Like a Snuggie for Your Soul


Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Jellyfish Brains

Things are kind of swimming and bobbing around like a bunch of jellyfish in my  head. I feel like a frayed nerve, to be honest. I hate to be melodramatic, but i think i'm still reeling from my Adventures so far in 2012.

I'm just out sporting my snorkel and my ping pong paddle, bouncing back and forth like a boxer on my toes, trying to shake the nerves from my limbs, waiting for shit to hit the fan again. I'm ready to lose the goggles and cast aside the pitiful shield forever, but i'm afraid to get my hopes up. It seems like this year has just been that way; i get my feet back under me, things go great, i'm elated and WOOSH! the rug gets yanked, or rather the magic carpet, and after a fall like that, you can't help but question whether it's a good idea to ever fly again at all.

I'm braced for the worst. I want to address my current status concerning the frequency of neuronal misfiring, but i'm afraid it's so tenuous, if i mention it, it might just stir the sleeping monster.

It's always a fine tight rope to walk- giving it consideration always, especially boating and biking and long, hot summer days; but trying not to fixate on it so as not to manifest anything undue. Akin to living in a garden with a tiger, always lurking, always much too close; much too close for comfort. 

Some days he's stealthy and invisible, hidden in the reeds and the lush. Others, he's out basking, lolling about seemingly docile, a presence that's distracting, and tiring, but ultimately not much worse than an unsettling reminder, a chill down your spine, a disconcerting glint of teeth in close proximity from the corner of your eye.

But then, there are days when the tiger's appetite returns, and the harmless kitty becomes a vicious, snarling and insatiable Mephistopheles. A beastly, evil monster, robbing all the best of you. Stealing your trust, stripping away your sense of security and breaking it's spine with a violent shake. Merciless jaws crush and puncture and clench away life between clamped teeth until the writhing abates.

Eventually he tires of you, and retreats, leaving you sprawled on the ground again with your tattered, lifeless confidence. Eventually your awareness and senses return. Eventually you'll recognize your familiar, beautiful garden. Probably people you love are already there. Some small part of you for an instant wonders why am i this monster's meal of choice? But it's eclipsed a millionfold by their sad expressions. The source of the pain is so plain on their faces- it's you in a sense. Your mother's eyes reveal nothing less than heartbreak. Your sister is scared. The bravest souls you know are afraid. The souls you've seen laugh in the face of their own demons are afraid of this unpredictable tiger thing.

I hate him for it. I resent the way the monster hurts my family more than all the rest of it; all the disappointment, pain, embarrassment and sacrifices combined.

Because while i'll call it nothing less than a beast, and a ghastly one, in my opinion, that i'd never wish on anybody, the real pain is endured by everyone else that has to deal with it. Tigger's a-hole alter ego is a pouncy, jerkface motherfucker, but he does at least have the decency to knock you unconscious for the brunt of it. He might leave you maimed and bloody, but you at least are unaware of the gnarliest parts of the assault. Your family and friends and innocent bystanders and your dog, however, are left helpless and distressed and fearing for the worst.

So i hope i don't regret saying, i'm overdue. I leave this weekend for my guiding gig and i feel like i'm hovering over the brakes, semi-daunted by this stale green stoplight. I'm afraid i'm gonna show up and boom, right away i'll eat shit and be sent packing with another armful of dead dreams and high hopes to mourn and bury.

I feel like i'm only marginally succeeding at the whole be-here-now rama-rama business because i have still yet to recuperate from all the schmeg (gross, i know, sorry) that 2012 has dealt, and i have so much intertwined anticipation and anxiety for the future. (I also just learned i get to move this summer now so that's some unadulterated pleasure to look forward to yeah?)  So kumbaya, gusfraba, ohm my darlin Clementine. I know everything is gonna be fine-ish, regardless, and worrying is counter-productive and i don't mean for this blog to be all catharsis, but thanks for bearing with me while i herd my duckies into rows. I feel like i should pay you for listening. I have a paypal account. Maybe we could work something out.


  1. I take cash.


    It will be a fine day when everyone just posts exactly what they want and how they feel and no apologies. We are here to listen. We WANT to know. We care. So it is all good, even when it isn't. And I mean that.

    Now could I just listen to it myself???

    Fingers and other things crossed that the beast continues to slumber. And if he doesn't and there is packing and sending (hopenot, hopenot!) we'll be here xx

    Love that crazy clip..hate jim carey ...but love that clip.

    And PS : WHY aren't I able to "follow" you?? What's the magic trick? xx

  2. Oh, I'm out here, listening avidly. And I do hope that nothing is jinxed and the tiger remains at bay. I'm so grateful for your presence in my blogging world -- for what you write, how you write it, your sense of humor and innate understanding.

    And that clip is completely nutty. How did you load that so it keeps on keeping on?

  3. Yours is the tiger, I am sitting on a volcano. While there is no comparison, really, the scenarios are similar. Hold on to your good sense of humour and keep it up, the be-here-rama-rama. It's all there is in the end. So we are lucky.
    A quote from one of the Buddhist divas: "Clarity is always there. In the middle of the worst scenario of the worst person in the world, in the middle of all the heavy dialogue with ourselves, open space is always there." (Pema Chondron)

  4. I'm floored again and again how total strangers with absolutely no reason to give a hoot, appear with brilliant bouquets of words; how they know just the right things to say. That they make the effort to lay them on my doorstep for the sole reason of lifting my heart absolutely amazes me. Especially in this realm of limited accountability- anyone could leave scathing comments with little fear of retribution. It really inspires my faith in humanity.

    Thank you Liv, for being here, and caring and listening (and for the bouquet analogy- that's a great one!) You're a prize fit for royalty. I'm floored by your kindness. I'm so glad for your presence. Thanks again.

  5. Elizabeth, of all the remarkable minds out here in the blogosphere, that you take the time to read and comment on my fledgling little bloggy attempts is mind boggling to me. Thank you. I'm so grateful that you're out there. I marvel at your talent and grace and courage and wisdom every day. Your words transcend this binary, pixelated, artificial, graphic user interface and breathe life into this place. It's phenomenal really.

  6. Sabine, i heard once that if we all sat down and laid all our problems out on the table and compared them to one another's, in the end, we'd all take back our own. I won't lie, it's true i'd take my tiger back over the volcano most certainly. I can cling to the hope that the striped fiend might someday expire, but i suppose that's the nature and the case with volcanoes- that fucker's never gonna go away is it? All the best and the brightest in the here-and-now to you. You deserve it. I wish i could at least bring you a fan and some ice cream to ease the heat when the temperature rises. I really, really do.


Comments are like flowers on the doorstep.