There are some songs that no matter when you hear them or where you are when you hear them....you stop and let the song wash over you. One of those songs, for me, is Desperado written by Glenn Frye and Don Henley. It's a song with a hauntingly lonesome melody but the lyric is what stops me cold. It's a guy's song of sorts but I have always identified with it. The lyric's message has always made me think of those times in life when we are alone by choice. Those times when we separate ourselves from friends and loved ones because it's just too hard to be around people, just too painful.
One phrase is the heart of the lyric for me. The one bright spot, the redemptive moment that always stops me and reminds me about how to live a life worth living.
You're losing all your highs and lows
Ain't it funny how the feeling goes away....
Life is hard, living is hard and walking life's journey can hurt with every single and solitary step. When we separate ourselves we attempt to insulate. When we insulate we stop feeling. When we stop feeling I think we stop living. It's a place I never want to be. For as much as we want to protect ourselves from hurt when we insulate we also can't feel the highs, can't feel the good, can't feel the wondrous happiness that can be found in life. If we wrap that insulation around us too tightly the feeling really does go away. We end up feeling nothing.
This was a week of highs and lows for me. I felt buried under a weight I could hardly bear. I insulated, I separated from friends and was quiet. I was fearful of losing a very special part of my life. I was also fearful of life's changes and what they would mean to me. Then....out of nowhere the high came swift and sweet. I was a witness this week to my daughter's life as it begins a beautiful new chapter and my father's as it begins to end. I was a witness to how little in life I can control and how desperately I want to do just that. The insulation does protect but it doesn't let us feel. It doesn't let us live.
Ain't it funny how the feeling goes away....
Highs and lows.
I pray it never goes away. For my sake, I pray it never goes away.
Indeed.
One phrase is the heart of the lyric for me. The one bright spot, the redemptive moment that always stops me and reminds me about how to live a life worth living.
You're losing all your highs and lows
Ain't it funny how the feeling goes away....
Life is hard, living is hard and walking life's journey can hurt with every single and solitary step. When we separate ourselves we attempt to insulate. When we insulate we stop feeling. When we stop feeling I think we stop living. It's a place I never want to be. For as much as we want to protect ourselves from hurt when we insulate we also can't feel the highs, can't feel the good, can't feel the wondrous happiness that can be found in life. If we wrap that insulation around us too tightly the feeling really does go away. We end up feeling nothing.
This was a week of highs and lows for me. I felt buried under a weight I could hardly bear. I insulated, I separated from friends and was quiet. I was fearful of losing a very special part of my life. I was also fearful of life's changes and what they would mean to me. Then....out of nowhere the high came swift and sweet. I was a witness this week to my daughter's life as it begins a beautiful new chapter and my father's as it begins to end. I was a witness to how little in life I can control and how desperately I want to do just that. The insulation does protect but it doesn't let us feel. It doesn't let us live.
Ain't it funny how the feeling goes away....
Highs and lows.
I pray it never goes away. For my sake, I pray it never goes away.
Indeed.
1 comment:
As long as the highs are not so high we fear they will never be surpassed, and the lows are only as low as needed to reminded that even average is good, then I agree.
There was a line in "Shirley Valentine" (a play you should re-read) where the waiter says something like "I ache a little, but at least I know I'm alive".
That was a great play. My favourite by Willy Russel.
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