And yet, we all know that nobody has it all together.
So if someone wants to gather up and post a few sparkly parts of their day among the otherwise chaotic, confusing, and disappointing jumble of messy parts, I say, bravo. Way not to wallow; way to focus on the things that make you smile. (Maybe Martha Stewart would have blogged about how to make small spaces feel cozy instead of claustrophobic.)
Conversely, if someone wants to push back the curtain on the parts we often leave unexamined and unsaid, if someone braves the criticism and misunderstanding and says, this is backstage and sometimes we're frantic back here, I say, bravo. It takes humble courage to put your truth on the table and not mind that some people might deem it too raw for their taste.
It sounds so trite, you wouldn't think it was true, but it is: you can't please everyone.
So I'll write with glittering happiness so sharp it hurts one day, and equally painful frustration, misgiving and discouragement the next, and hope I will simply be seen as real.
Don't we all swing between our best and worst selves on a regular basis? Yes, I get that if we start swinging too fast, too extremely, if our pendulum goes wildly out of control, we have diagnosable problems with medical names. Yes, I get that.
A wild pendulum is one thing.
But tame it just a bit, and doesn't it become a metronome?
Could these contrasts be the things that help us keep pace?
Would my song fade out listlessly without the metronome of my contradictions pushing the music forward?
Play through the hard parts; tick.
Play through the easy parts; tick.
Play when you're bored; tick.
Play when you're passionate;tick
Let the contrasts keep you on pace,
Let your own contradictions steady you
joy and grief
order and chaos
generosity and selfishness
confidence and cowardice
peace and perplexity
trust and fear
near and far
The song goes on.
We write these blogs; they are just a few notes in the margin of the sheet music. Liner notes for the cd case.
You catch me on one tick: life is grand
The metronome moves: life is horrible
Next stanza: I am a loving, vibrant woman
Please leave me alone
If the contrasts serve as a metronome and somehow help me keep pace, I guess the more important question is:
Whose music am I playing?