It is early evening Sunday night and I am listening to Leonard Cohen singÂ Hallelujah. Almost three years have passed since I wroteÂ The Radical Honesty of a Life I Donâ€™t Love and I am just beginning to be able to look backwards and feel like that time is really behind me.
“I did my best, it wasn’t much
I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I’ll stand before the lord of song
With nothing on my tongue but hallelujah”
Hallelujah- Leonard Cohen
And Here I Am
And here I am back at the computer still listening to Rainy Mood again, a bemused look across my face and an internal monologue about what to share and what not to.
The end of the year is almost upon us and that is partially responsible for why I am feeling so introspective. There is a certain amount of pleasure that comes from looking back at some of these older posts because they serve as markers to the past and beacons I intend to use to avoid making the same mistake twice.
There are no guarantees that any of that will or will not happen and I suppose that is part of the joy of life.
We never have as little control nor as much as we think. Our lot is to take what comes and find a way to make something of it.
You say I took the name in vain
I don’t even know the name
But if I did, well really, what’s it to you?
There’s a blaze of light
In every word
It doesn’t matter which you heard
The holy or the broken hallelujah
Hallelujah- Leonard Cohen
Sometimes The Only Way Out Is Through
I am not the first nor will I be the last to say sometimes the only way out is through. What I do know about this comes from my experience and having lived these moments it is easy to offer advice and counsel to my children.
Fortunately they really have no need of such advice now and if all goes as I hope…ever.
But should there come a day down the road when they feel like they have been forcefully shoved head first into the mud and muck I will be able to tell them that dad has been there.
And I’ll be able to tell them that sometimes the thing that matters most is their willingness to dig deep and persevere. Physical strength won’t be the thing that puts you over the top.
It is mental strength that is needed and sometimes the way you train for that is by being forced to deal with rough times. Or maybe it is more accurate to say you don’t know how much strength is in you until you are tested.
Either way I still prefer they don’t have to find out but if they do I’ll know what to say.
In the interim I am just pleased to say I can look at all that crap and smile now, those days are over.