Mindfulness

The trick to living in the present moment... is not getting lost in the past or the future.  And sometimes, the past mingles with the future, in the present- and I realize again... why I wrote another song.  For months I thought it was not finished simply because I could not learn how to play it.
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Rely on Yourself

I always remember- My momma read to me
tales about princes, she read me- all those stories
She told me, baby- Don't you ever wait on him
You've got your own life- You've got your own kin

So don't always look- For what you want life to be
Sight is misleading- showing you what you want to see
First trust in yourself- Not even in me, nobody else
Before you can let 'em in- trust in yourself

(CHORUS)
'Cause you don't need no one- no, nobody else
You've got your own heart, take care of your health
'Cause you don't need no one- no, nobody else
You've got your own mind, earn your own wealth
'Cause you don't need no one- no, nobody else
Before you can let 'em in, rely on yourself

Daddy always called me- apple of his eye
Said I'll always love you- more than any other guy
No matter what you do- I know you'll go far
Knew since the day your were born- It's just who you are

(Repeat CHORUS)
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I can not even remember when I began writing this song.  It was a rather long time ago... It poured out, and I felt ashamed to play it.  I sat on it for months, not wanting to bother the guys to learn it.  Really, I think I only played it for Victor once?  ...and it was not nearly finished in my mind, even though all the words had been written down.

I had to go back, several times, rearranging the words... like a puzzle.  They were all there, just not in the write order... the right order.  Often my life feels like that... out of order- I was not in a state of mind to understand what this song means to me now, then.

Life is strange.  I could say... "I never imagined-"  But I DID imagine I would be crazy.  I really thought for a long time that sooner or later, I would find myself inside a padded room... Or slowly falling asleep and never waking up, nauseous and full of pills.

It happened once.

When I was two days shy of 22.  I had just moved to New York, to live with a man I met in an America Online chatroom... We had met when I was 16, and he was 25.

Within weeks, it was obvious what a mistake I had made... But I could not go back to York, PA.  I could not figure out a way to go anywhere else.  For months I stewed in my misery... Until New Years Eve, I got drunk and blacked out... I instigated an argument.  I am sure it was my fault.  I can not recall... But I do remember waking up, face down, on the sidewalk, outside our apartment, shivering.  That was his fault.

I had my key.  I let myself in... I fell asleep.  In the morning his glasses were broken.  He said I had done it.  In the morning, I had a bruise on my face... I went back to bed.  When I woke up again, and he was still playing computer games, I quietly slipped into bathroom and swallowed a large handful of painkillers.  I read somewhere that it is a mistake to take too many... Just enough to not vomit before they can work- I hoped.

I laid on my back and went back to sleep.  I heard if you throw up in your sleep, laying on your back, you may choke to death on your own wretch.

I dozed in and out... Each time I drifted into dreams, I said goodbye to the world, and pain, and suffering, and worry.  I finally stopped worrying how upset anyone would be with me.  Surely, I would be given oblivion for my self-sacrifice... an end of being- Release from knowing, feeling... or could it be the punishment for my disregard?

Each time I drifted back in, I awoke to a nightmare... I soothed myself with the knowledge that must be over soon.

But then the vomit... the bile... the projectile spewing failure.  I laid in the tub, with the water pouring down over me... as I wept.

There was no one... No one in the world that I wanted to call, wanted to reach... wanted to save me.

As night rolled on, and my heaving became dry... and my organs ached... I surrendered.  I told Mr. AOL that I needed to go to the hospital.  He ignored me initially, assuming this was the result of a very bad hang over.  I had to confess...

In the emergency room, he stayed with me until I was admitted.  Then annoyed, he went home.  As I drank the charcoal concoction that sucked the poison out of my system, I cried... Not in pain, not in distress... I cried because I was afraid that he would call my parents to come get me.  I cried because I was ashamed and did not want anyone to know.

...In his shame, he did not call anyone.  No one knew.  I did not tell anyone for years...

Now I do not hesitate to share my story.  It was not a plea for help.  It was an immature effort to avoid accepting a failure, to avoid facing consequences and moving on.  I stayed with Mr. AOL for another two years, in denial.  I was afraid to take responsibility for myself...

I am not afraid anymore.  I have a good career- albeit one I am in the effort of replacing, slowly but surely.  I can always take care of myself.  I cook.  I clean.  I work... I am healthy.  I just get very absorbed in other people... I can get lost in other people.

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...and now here again, I meet myself... on the page.  Hello.
Hey.  How you been?
How's it goin'?

I really do enjoy capturing the way that people speak.  I can't do it justice.  One's own voice is the hardest to hear.  I am so busy listening to everyone else.

My mind is a compass, and my life is a map.

I just keep getting lost.

I fall, deeper and deeper.

My memory's always lost in my past

and I can not find a way

to let go of the rest and let go at last

I'm always on my way

Always on my way

Cause when I finally let go-

This is better.

This is better.

This is better... You will leave this place.

I am a singer-songwriter.

I didn't understand what this meant... So I couldn't figure out how to do it well.  I mean, I knew that musicians had to learn to play instruments and sing- well, but I am barely a musician at all... I mean, I didn't put in the training, and my body and mind simply can not process all that practice and a day job... Nope.  I am a singer-songwriter... Who is simply a very slow learner as a musician.  I am too busy processing everything that happens in every day life.  It is so heavy... the weight.  The wait... of life.

Just letting it pour... instead of spilling.
Just take it in slow... when it's moving fast.

Just remember... I'm only learning.

How to let go... and learn in every moment, take in every little last detail, slowly... as if it is for the very first time.  As if you never grew up.  As though you've never had your heart broken.

Oh, the things you will find and you will see.