Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Where do I go?

what direction

For some odd reason the lyrics to this song are often playing in my head. It's a song from the musical Hair, and one that I have always love. It speaks to the dilemma we often face in life, what is this life all about, and which direction should we go?

I think that for me, I have always looked around me trying to find the right answer. Now I know that there is no one right answer. There is only what is right for me, in this given time, and in this given situation.

There are so many uncertainties in this life. For some of us this has been a hard lesson. During these past few years I have questioned God, and anyone that will listen, about why certain things were happening in my life. I wanted some kind of clear answer why my life had to take on so many difficult turns, and why things just never seemed to go in my direction. Well, at least not in the direction I wanted.

Life is a funny thing. There is always someone to look at and think, they have it so much easier. Likewise, there is always someone to look at and say, they have it so much worse.

I think at different times in our life we may feel enlightened. There are moments of clarity, or there are mere moments of acceptance. I know that for myself, I never really feel like I get the full answer. Some people like to pray to God for the answer. I used to. I don't any longer. If I pray at all it is for acceptance. I know that my human mind will never be completely satisfied. There is nothing that can be told to me that will completely satisfy that part of me that needs to know why.

I have looked into my young lover's eyes to see that I am loved. I have also looked into his eyes with the question of where do we go. I know that many people believe that Michael and I were meant to meet, and that I was meant to care for him. I'm not quite sure that I want to think of our relationship in that way. Yes, we met, we fell in love, and we committed to each other. He got sick, we grew strong, and we loved even more. In the end I was left alone, once again asking where do I go?

I think I want to believe that our loved just happened. I think I want to believe that he just got sick, and died. I don't want to see a bigger picture, with a bigger message. If there was a purpose to all of this, then we were somehow chosen for this. I would prefer to not think that someone, or something, wanted me to go through all of this. That would just make me feel victimized.

I would prefer to think that I was lucky in love. And as luck would have it, sometimes bad things just happen. This way, I can also entertain the idea that I could be lucky in love again someday.





Where do I go -Hair


Where do I go
Follow the river
Where do I go
Follow the gulls

Where is the something
Where is the someone
That tells me why I live and die

Where do I go
Follow the children
Where do I go
Follow their smiles

Is there an answer
In their sweet faces
That tells me why I live and die

Follow the wind song
Follow the thunder
Follow the neon in young lovers' eyes

Down to the gutter
Up to the glitter
Into the city
Where the truth lies

Where do I go
Follow my heartbeat
Where do I go
Follow my hand

Where will they lead me
And will I ever
Discover why I live and die

Why do I live (beads, flowers)
Why do I die (freedom, happiness)
Tell my why (beads, flowers)
Tell me where (freedom, happiness)
Tell my why (beads, flowers)
Tell me why (freedom!)

5 comments:

  1. I got the same 'meant to be' comments about Elias and I, with me caring for him, etc. I definitely see where you are coming from on this one. I think it probably falls into the category of 'shit people say to try and be comforting when they don't know what else to say' category (apologies for the profanity). At least it's not quite as harmful as other comments of the like, but still. . . .

    Elias and I were together for 13 wonderful years. Yes, we discovered his tumour early and so we lived with it for over half of that time, but for the most part of the 13 yrs our day to day life was pretty normal. We loved, fought, and cared for 'each other' regardless of his illness the entire time.

    The last year of his life was not easy. I never thought about it as such, but I guess I would have been considered his 'caretaker' for much of that time. To me, I was his wife. I was his love and he was mine.

    Sorry - I took a long rant on one small part of what you said! Yes - where do we go from here??

    ~C~

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  2. As much as possible, I try not to think there's any reason for what happened to us. As an atheist, the only one I hold responsible for any of this is an unruly mob of vicious cancer cells that organized in such a way that they destroyed two people's lives. It's all about as premeditated and senseless as a random shark attack on one among hundreds of swimmers at a beach. What I have a harder time with is the number of times this has happened in my family and with my dogs. The waters seem to be full of sharks these days. I am unwilling to go swimming with the sharks anymore == I am unwilling to engage in a relationship with any more possible shark attack victims.

    Where is the something
    Where is the someone
    That tells me why I live and die


    This part is harder. What are we meant to do or be? I have a problem with this. These days, I feel like a chef with an empty restaurant, or an artist with a show at an empty gallery. My chief muse and recipient of all I had to give is gone and I have lost my raison d'ĂȘtre. Many of the things I so loved to do seem hollow to me now. I feel rather like a has-been...like one of those famous people you read of: So-and-so never wrote another book, or painted again, or made another expedition to the deepest, darkest jungles, after the death of his/her wife, husband, partner, mother, father, brother, sister, agent, or favourite dog or horse. Is that going to be me? It certainly feels that way, and has felt that way for awhile. No answer.

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  3. bev - yes; to all of your part two.

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  4. megan - However, that said, much as I feel that way inside, I continue to struggle and fight back against that feeling. I travel, rescue and salvage this old house, photograph moths at night, and look for some way to carry on. Part of me believes that if I can just keep going, at least some part of my life will begin to make sense. That is the hope.

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  5. Yes, I have just this week been revisited by that awful empty feeling of having lost all my dreams and plans and having nothing to replace them.

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