Like the Swallow

I've been debating for a while about this post. Whether I really had the guts to begin to talk about it, even to begin to think about it. Whether I really needed to work it out for myself or just I could let it keep sleeping, hidden under the surface. I think I need to... even though it's not the sort of thing I normally talk about. I mean, who really wants the darker parts of themselves on display? So, if you're looking for a cheerful, ain't life cute post, today ain't the day. (May I suggest LOLCats instead?) But if you don't mind digging in my psyche with me, come on along.

First and foremost, I'm an adrenaline junkie. Most pilots are. Even when I'm in total control of the aircraft, that adrenaline rush of landing, the kiss of tires on tarmac is beyond compare. I like speed - the faster the better. This is not to say I don't have common sense. I understand the need to control that demand for faster, higher, farther for the sake of others.

Living on that kind of edge is not a place for mothers. It's not fair to my children to put myself at risk like that. As long as there are lives that depend on me, it's my responsibility to put them first.

But I crave the danger. And it's not enough to speed or fly. There's a part of me that wants to be dangerous. That is dangerous. This is the part that lives deepest within. The part that screams with the need to express physical rage. The part that blinds that common sense. The calculating cruelty that I cannot seem to excise from my soul. Part demon, part merciless avenging angel.

I have no outlet for that part of me. Neither my vocations nor my avocations allow for violence. I am trapped: by my life, by my love, by myself. I'm fat, clumsy, and middle-aged; when I see my reflection as I exercise, I realize my only danger to others is if I sit on them. I'm hardly going to take up being an assassin or some such at this point in my life yet there is a deep part of me that needs to let that avenging angel soar.

In a few years, when all the kids are in school, I want to learn to sword fight. Yes, it's a useless skill (unless, of course, there's an apocalypse rendering ammunition impossible to come by - then it might be useful) but it calls to me. There are times I wonder whether another lifetime saw me metal-clad and armed. I don't know whether this "pretend" dangerousness will be enough to let the angel rest more quietly, keep the demon locked away.

It scares me, the need. Even as I physically crave the danger, the craving scares me.
Who am I to need that? Logically, it makes no kind of sense. Neither my place in life, nor my faith in God permits it. If I am to trust God, I am where I should be. And where I am distinctly precludes walking the edge.

On a wagon, bound for market
there's a calf that is born to die.
High above him, there's a swallow
winging swiftly through the sky.

How the winds are laughing, they laugh with all their might,
laugh and laugh the whole day through and half the summer's night.

"Stop complaining," said the farmer,
"Who told you a calf to be?
Why don't you have wings to fly with
like the swallow so proud and free."

How the winds are laughing, they laugh with all their might,
laugh and laugh the whole day through and half the summer's night.

Calves are easily bound and slaughtered,
never knowing the reasons why.
But whoever treasures freedom,
like the swallow, must learn to fly.

How the winds are laughing, they laugh with all their might,
laugh and laugh the whole day through and half the summer's night.

Of Christmas Lights, Grab Bags, and Loneliness

Topic 1:
First off, we are all ok. The house is ok. BUT it might not be so if a guy driving by didn't happen to look at our house from exactly the right spot at exactly the right time.

Our outdoor Christmas lights caught fire! We think that, with the bad weather, something got wet and there was a short in one of the light sets but who really knows. What we do know is this: the Christmas lights went out at some point, John was out blowing the driveway, a guy in a big van stopped, got out, and raced down the driveway to John. (I was watching from the house wondering "why are the Christmas lights out? I could've sworn I turned them on!".) Then they both come racing to the house. There is a small electrical fire right by the base of the door frame that flamed up just as the guy happened to look out as he happened to drive by. It melted the prongs of the plug off into the extension cord but, fortunately, we caught it and unplugged everything before the porch or the doorframe caught fire. There was a lot of soot but the wood all appears to be whole and unburnt.

So, even if I receive nothing else for Christmas, I am grateful that we are unscathed.

Topic 2:
If anyone out there wants a resin snow man lamp that I got in our office gift exchange, let me know. It's a snowman holding a banner that a cat is sleeping on. The light bulb comes out of a pole that starts at the base and curves around the snowman and straightens over his head. It takes a nightlight bulb and has a countryish lampshade. It's certainly cute but it doesn't fit my house in the slightest. (I tend toward Craftsman and Victorian eclectia rather than kitsch.) I'd love someone to have it that would have a place for it! (I'm too lazy to get up and take/upload/post a picture - sorry!)

Topic 3:
Have you ever noticed how lonely one can be even if one is surrounded by people? Everyone is home now but I'm feeling awfully lonely tonight. I think, in part, it's the post-performance letdown (I sang with a local church choir this afternoon for their Lessons & Carols service - it was nice to do some more challenging music including a fascinating, tonally shifting, 8+ part divisi Magnificat (Finzi - interestingly, the piece was commissioned for the Smith and Amherst College Choirs back in 1952 - small world kind of thing)). At any rate, we did go to the party afterward and I'm glad we went though we had to leave really early because we didn't have a sitter. I had a pretty good time which is more than I usually do at parties - they are a real effort for me: too many people. At any rate, somehow, now that we're home and Katie and John have gone to bed and I'm working (technically), I feel even more alone than normal. It was a great time - the rehearsals and the performance - and I got to be with grownups sans kid. As with the bad things, the good things also fall under the "this, too, shall pass" description.

I probably won't post again before Christmas so let me wish you all holiday filled with all good things and, most especially, peace on Earth and good will to all.