Alanis Morissette's new album has been filling me up with joy and release, power and anger and venting strategies. From the moment I hit "play" on my Walkman on Tuesday, I've been in awe of what may be my favorite album of hers to date. It's like Alanis has taken the strong points of all her previous albums and combined them into one 46 minute cathartic rush of energy & emotion. I'm impressed. And addicted. And obsessed with it.
I went on a power-walk yesterday, and near Killingsworth & 33rd I decided to cross through the park and up by where the old school was torn down a few months ago. There's a patchy field of sad trees, blotchy grass, open space....During Alanis' "In Praise of the Vulnerable Man", I just started dancing in the field! It was one of those moments where the world felt right and I felt like everyone could hear the music playing as our lovely global soundtrack. I just danced and jumped and writhed and watched a plane shoot by overhead, watched the half moon as it hovered in the blue, uncloudy sky. Watched my shadow pump its fists and sway its hips and bop its head. Then I headed home, and right as I started up the steps, I looked behind me and saw a family of four -- two young parents, their young son and daughter, probably around three years old. The girl held open her arms and ran toward her brother, stopped on the sidewalk, her hair swinging in front of her face. The brother ran up to her -- and knocked too hard into her and she fell down on the sidewalk and grabbed her knee and started crying....The mom and dad started reprimanding their son -- I happened to be pulling off my headphones so I could head inside -- and they helped their daughter up off the ground. I got snapped back, another coil of truth etching some kind of emotional lightening. And then though the girl was crying, and the boy was apologizing, there was in that moment the same kind of raw Life Pulse that I experienced as I danced in the field.
Settled in for the night with Ollie and Luna on the couch, and some new experimentation with ice cream. Yes, it's finally happened -- I bought mint chocolate chip. For whatever reason, I've never been a big fan (sorry, Kevin!), but the sun was out and my body felt warm and summer had creeped in mid-day with a lovely vengeance. Mint chocolate chip was just screaming my name for a refreshing change of pace. I'm glad I listened.
Grandma Lilly passed away two weeks ago at age 99. She was my last living grandparent, and in some ways her death has hit me the hardest -- even though, in some ways, I'd found peace with our more distant relationship of the past several years. Spoke with Chris, my father, a couple times, the last of those times being this past Monday night. I wanted to check in with him, make sure he was doing okay after the wake and funeral. He'd offered to fly my brothers and me out for the service, but as a unit we decided to honor Grandma in our own ways, our own spiritualities, our own homes. It would have been hard for us to be around many of the relatives, their judgments. Chris asked if we could visit sometime soon; I could fly to Detroit or Chicago, or he could fly out here. I told him that -- while we never know what the future holds, emotionally, and while my perspectives and feelings and forgivenesses have deepened over the past few years -- I don't feel a need at this point in my life to spend time with him. That I wish him well, wish him health and kindness, but I don't want to see him.
Grandma Lilly....Dad....finishing teaching at AiPD for now....so many other things....My mind is swirling, so much of it with with strength and power and love, and Life so often feels like we're dancing in fields either literally or figuratively, and sometimes we're alone, and sometimes we have someone to dance with, and sometimes it's okay to be awkward and vulnerable as strangers walk by and look and probably think, "Is he trippin'?"
Happy Friday the 13th. I'll be celebrating the holiday this evening by going to see M. Night Shyamalan's The Happening. Gosh. I can't wait! And I dedicate this day to Mom and our saging of San Raphael, and I also dedicate it to Dawn, who has the sexiest grace on the planet, and who knows what it's like to strip away barbwire from one's heart.
