I refuse to dwell, and the only way to forward is take the steps toward change. Through this process, I look to past to identify patterns, to the present to relate to feelings, and to the future for a glimmer of hope. I do not know what lies ahead, but at the end of the day, I'm looking for improvement of any kind big or small, on any level or layer of my being. That's all we can do as humans and I refuse to stay trapped in my mistakes and history only to repeat them. I refuse to be the victim of my own abuse any longer, and what does that leave? Truthfully, that's the part that remains unseen, the part I need to really extract and accept for what it is. I'm getting closer. I am.
I'm not running, in fact, I refuse escapism as self-defense. It hasn't worked before, and it's not going to work now either. Perhaps part of growing older is realizing and calling ourselves out on our own bullshit and accepting it, then moving on and trying to fix it. A quote I love from a Kathleen Edwards song:
"You spend half your life trying to turn the other half around." That's my world, that's my reality, and I'll shout it from the rooftops, write it in the sky. I'm ok with it. There is so much I want to accomplish in this world, so much I haven't seen, a small part of me wants to reach in and strangle that girl of the second half of my life. But on the other hand, I love that girl too, because she taught me so much. We did have some good times together, she and I, but I have to let her go.
Here's the video for Kathleen Edwards' "Six O'Clock News". Love her.
The other album that comes to mind that is both haunting and just so real is none other than Bob Dylan's Blood on the Tracks, particularly "You're a Big Girl Now". Maybe now, maybe for real this time, I am finally becoming a Big Girl now. Incidentally, Blood on the Tracks came out the year I was born, 1975 to date myself. This cover is awesome:
So many songs, so little time. A little wine, a lot of music, love and laughter with friends, that's what's getting me through. For everything, I am grateful.