Today a thought occured to me, or rather a question. ‘Just who are you becoming?’ The Auriol I knew at the start of this year feels like another person. On bad days it feels like there is no more music left. And all I want is to crawl into arms and cry. A really big part of me is happy there is no one I turn to. I don’t know if I would be able to stop crying. And aint nobody got time for that!
My daughter accuses me of not needing anyone. My little smart ass who is majoring in psychology and three other subjects all science related, likes psychoanalysing me. Perhaps it’s all these months alone and without music. Perhaps it’s the pandemic and Daddy dying. Or perhaps I was always a bit mad. But after having everything taken from me over the years, I learnt to not hang on to anything or anyone. I have never fought for any person’s love or affection and won’t. I know who I am when I have nothing and no one beside me.
It caused me to reevaluate everything. Every box of belief, every relationship and my behavior in it; the truth of my being human. Do you know what occured to me? I don’t know what it feels like to stand in the centre of Love itself and not move. I never trusted anyone or myself enough not to. Until now.
I told my friend Mark, ‘My sadness is my sadness.’ I was trying to explain that it’s not anyone’s business to comfort me, or extend themselves as I grieve. This isn’t stubbornness or pride. But how else to know the extent of Love but to stand in the centre of it as every bit of you hurts, as thing fall apart… and all you can do is breathe and trust as the jaggered bits collide into each other and cuts into you as they seek a new form?
My understanding of Love itself has been amplified by the death of my Father. And on some days it really fuckin hurts.
But. Yet. Despite everything. The sun shines, the sea storms, the sky is filled with blue and night studded with stars. The garden is filled with flowers in bloom, the leaves emerald and the wind gentle. This is silence I wrap around myself when life becomes too noisy. It’s what I clothe myself in whenever I leave my home, before I speak to another or sing.
And that’s good enough for now.