200718 Surrender never surrender

july 18

[An ex-blog reader once commented that they lost interest because bloggers (slice-of-life style) did not truly reflect all the slices of everyday ups and downs and so lost authenticity.]

Last night I ran away from home. I packed my guitar and overnight bag, water, devices and a blanket, change of clothes and medicines in the car (mine). I left the dog because I didn't know what to do with him: I couldn't take him to a hotel; I would go back and get him (and my cash stash - oops) if I decided to go to Quebec. I soon found that, short of driving to Montréal, there was nowhere to go. There is no-one to whom I can go in this circumstance: its urgency is slight, covid 19 makes a lesser problem unimportant. It was sad, really. It would have been my parents, when they were alive. They were always there. But now I am the only one I know who would take me in, whom I could ask. 

So I came home again and went to bed. The children were gone to bed with Tamar. 

Sometime in the night Robin came to sleep in the big bed, but he was gone again, in the morning.

This "run-away" episode follows closely on the bad day I had July 3 when I was so thrown off. I am the mumma yaga! I do not fall nor founder! But I do. I sometimes feel weary, as if I have been carrying something for so long I don't remember what it's like to put it down, don't know how, there isn't anywhere. 

if you collapse on the floor

still the floor will hold you up. 

there is no need. 

breathe

you are crying

cry, you are still breathing

sleep.

there will be tomorrow.

this is what we can't grasp, when we're afraid.

"tomorrow" makes no sense:
in depression it ends here, tonight.

you see it makes no diff'rence

the sun will come up

i will be here say hello.

call me now and in the morning. 

if no-one saw you fall, still someone will look for you until you are found.*

I stumbled (oh pun) onto the foundering-ship metaphor a few minutes ago, and I began to hear the song, White Flag: "I will go down with this ship.", which I "tracked" down and listed to.** (seriously, it was auto-corrected!) 

Is it surrendering, to lie down and rest a while?  Is it surrendering to not "push the river"?*** 

The Lee of Christian Island, Lightfoot: "For one more day, she would like to stay in the lee of ..."

"Build me a boat that can carry two, and both shall row, my love and I." The Water Is Wide, James Taylor. Perhaps I am not alone. But it can be so intangible some days.

I will find my feet again. My compass.

*Complete poem, 200520.

**Then bought the album. How have I not found and followed this artist before? never consciously heard her name. Dido.

***Van Morrison

Also referenced: 

Gordon Lightfoot

James Taylor