2003-09-26 - 5:24 p.m.
July 1, 2003
Lately I have been listening to Cowboy Junkies and finding a home in their poetry. After a retreat to the woods they compiled Miles From Our Home, a collection that mirrors their experience and tranquility with the ever-changing seasons. Then this morning, playing That Lonely, Sinking Feeling repeatedly on my way here and there, I let the CD continue to another song when these lines stuck out like a tongue from the rest of the song: But if there is one thing in my life that these years have taught me is that you can always see it coming but you can’t stop it. This track belongs with the other CD.
To overcome what seems to be my greatest disadvantage, the inability to release from the daily and weekly heart-sores, I think I need to keep these words in my mind. I have come to anticipate a betrayal or misconstrual of my naiveté and well-wishing, yet have found no method to dealing with that. I still do not understand what upsets me about that.
Should it be this difficult to determine my values and priorities? It seems to me that I should know what I want, but I do not. I do not know.
I could move out West, make a decent salary, find a responsible and respectable husband, and live the good life like I am told I want to.
Last night I turned to Jacob and Rachel in Genesis to relieve my hasty heart, to remind myself that they had to wait seven years, plus a betrayal before their marriage, then another seven before Jacob could make his own home. Instead of relieving my heart, I found that I dislike the story. [I forget why now.]
