On the train heading back from Toronto. Did a solo three-day stint. Been a while since I’ve been home. A friend needed my support. Death has touched the inner circle again and my purpose was a welcome diversion.
Looking into the milky gray of the watery sunset, seeing the rolling fields of almost-green, and naked birches exposed and white, I feel a deep disquiet I can’t explain. A hauntingly familiar echo is telling me my life is not as it should be.
I saw family I disconnected from 15 years ago and the reason still felt palpable in their presence. But I suspended judgment and smiled at the joy they felt in seeing me again. But it was surreal standing in an old memory. Nothing had changed. Their patterned abuse of each other is still woven deep in their love.
As I sat, watched and listened, I settled into a stark awareness that I no longer fit in. And I was okay with that. I no longer wanted to be a member of their dysfunction. This awkward band of familial misfits who bury their pain and hide the lie of their lives. Kinda sad actually. I’ve often wondered how I would have turned out if I’d been raised by blood. Nurture vs nature and all that.
My iPod of a thousand years died on the ride up leaving me with maybe a dozen songs to listen to on my phone. I don’t usually play music on my phone but I vaguely remember starting a playlist some time ago and then abandoning it. But I need music when I make these trips, so I found the music app and hit play.
Maysa wafted into my ears with her soft seduction and easy rhythm and shades of Venezuela and the color red made their presence felt. I haven’t listened to Maysa in a long time. Memories raw and painful usually surface. But this time was different. I think I have finally surrendered into acceptance. Fairytales are just that and who lives happily ever after anymore anyhow?
Ya…Like I said. A deep disquiet I can’t quite explain. A hauntingly familiar echo is telling me my life is not as it should be.
I don’t know what it is about music, lonely roads and nostalgia, but for me, the three are intertwined. I enjoy the serenity and the much-needed clarity that sometimes comes with rumination, but I wish I could forgo the sadness.
It’s a process.
Maysa, I love you, but you’re killing me. 💔
Time for a new iPod and maybe a new phone playlist.