Nashville
Some of my best moments have been in this town. But also, some of my hardest.
Isn’t that the way it goes? The joy and pain are always intermingled. It’s impossible to separate them – the laughter and the tears – because life cannot be compartmentalized like a preschooler’s cubby wall. There is always something difficult to deal with – and there is always something to be thankful for.
It occurred to me the other night – Nashville did not fix me. I didn’t realize that I had the expectation that it would – not until my mom got cancer and all of a sudden I am leaving this town as big a tangled mess as I have ever been. Nashville did not heal those wounded places deep inside me, didn’t fulfill those dreams and unidentified desires that I’ve always had, didn’t make me cooler or smarter or prettier or more at peace.
I cried to my dad a couple of nights ago, telling him that as I prepare to leave, I feel an unexpected sense of disappointment. It surprised me. I didn’t know I felt disappointed – but I do. I definitely do. Nashville didn’t fix me; in fact, in some ways, it ripped those wounds open even wider.
I’ll be honest: I am a wreck these days – a bona fide disaster. If you don’t think so, that’s because you don’t know me – or because I’m a seriously good faker.
But the people that do know? They make up the biggest part of why I will always and forever be grateful for my time spent in Nashville. They have not fixed me – but they have put an arm around me. The “fingerprints of God,” my dad called them.
We are all weak. But it’s better to know that we are.
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Wherever you go, there you are. I’ve been places that I thought would fix me too, but darned if I didn’t come along. In a way that’s freeing – you have the power to fix yourself no matter where you are, & a place can be a place you love & don’t love & not a magical elixir.
If I had the power to fix myself, I would. But I don’t.
THAT is the freeing part.
I love you.
Yeah – I say that like I’m fixed too. Sigh. But the CONCEPT is pretty freeing…
Perhaps “fix” is an inappropriate word? It implies something sort of permanent and we know that is not possible in this life. Maybe “grow” you is a better choice? Those people who know you – they fertilize, prune, admire, take clippings – they all help us grow. I look out at my garden today and it looks messy and unproductive. But in August it is abundant and lush. There are seasons in life where we are a mess, some where we are better — as I approach 50 this becomes more and more clear. Prayers with you in the next transition.
I agree with Peg. If you think you need fixing then that implies there is something wrong or broken about you, and I think that is the beauty of being human – we are not perfect. I wonder what it would be like to feel fixed, and then I realize that moment will likely only come when we are with our Maker.
One of our pastors recently said in a sermon that by accepting the promise of the cross, we should EXPECT life to be difficult, EXPECT things to be tough. It is the path we are choosing. That is a tough concept to grasp hold of, but I think if you can, even just a little, it let’s you release some of the need for things to be fixed.
Remember this?
http://laveedoonfee.blogspot.com/2008/05/way-down-south.html
“The point I’m getting at, I suppose, is that I love the messy imperfections. I love that Annie and I both have holes and gaps, because that’s where we’re able to meet each other in friendship. Imperfection requires help– it requires hope, and GRACE, and saving– from God, from one another. For one another. And I love that, I love the meeting between trenches. That’s when life gets to LIVING. Praise the Lord that Annie is not just Cool Annie Parsons– that she’s messier than the poised singer up front of many impressed people. If she was only that, we would have never needed to become friends, and the kind of wisdom and songs and thoughts that she’s shared with me and so many others would have never been aired. If Cool Annie Parsons had only remained Cool Annie Parsons, I don’t know that she would have had the patience to walk with me through MY confusion– but as it is, she does. And thank God that she does.”
This time last year, I was at the lowest place I’ve ever been– a bonafied trainwreck. YOU know. But that incredibly messy time was the equivalent of having fertilizer– sh*t– everywhere. And when I look back at that very stinky time, I see huge growth, and raw learning, and serious preparation.
“Hindsight is 20/20” is an obnoxious and patronizing phrase. But Annie: I promise it will make more sense someday than it does now. Take that from someone who loves you truly. And I promise, you have not been stagnant. You have been, and continue to BECOME.
That’s something, isn’t it?
Let’s talk soon.
If you were “fixed” I probably wouldn’t like you as much. ;)
xoxo
Hit me up on the way if you’re ever near. I’d like to talk over dessert.
Or maybe through dessert would be more honest, as I’ll be stuffing it in my mouth. This offer is 98% wanting to talk and 2% wanting an excuse for fancy dessert.
I guess I’m hungry. But I’d love to talk.
None of us are ever “fixed”. We are simply “mended” daily. This is simply to hold us over until we are with our Jesus and he makes us whole once and for all.
Praying for you Annie. Rest on the Rock that is higher, stronger and bigger than you.
Oh, to be untangled. We’re all just a bit tangled up… it’s just that not everyone is willing to admit it.
“Tomorrow is a new day, with no mistakes in it.” Anne Shirley was a smart girl… and she’s always given me a bit of hope. Because if anyone ever could make a mess of things it was her… and things worked out for her.
Ay kez ban! Ok… so brain synopsis have led me to this image… go with me… the longer you live, the more arms you stretch out, the more you are able to get tangled up. So good for you for reaching out to others, to parts of your self, for risking being the “tangled mess” that you are. Maybe we’ll eventually get to the point where we accept the task of dragging that tangled mess behind us as we go, rejoice when one of those tendrils finds it’s way out of the tangled mess, and in the meantime, love the knot.
(I think that metaphor was a tangled mess.) Blessings for you.
What is daylight is without darkness to define it?
Joy without sorrow is bland, and leads inevitably to ennui.
We don’t really know the lows you experienced in Nashville – appropriately, you kept them from public display. But you are moving on with some pretty impressive personal accomplishments:
o Your Demo CD
o The Bluebird moment
o AP/EP
I believe you should hold these close and cherish them as you move forward. But do move forward.
Life *is* a journey, not a destination.
If I had a wide tooth comb and a bottle of that spritzy “no more tears” tangle remover (do they even make that stuff anymore?), I’d totally loan it to you. And it would go something like this:
Annie W: “Here you go, tah dah!”
Annie P: “Um, what?”
Annie W: “It’s for your tangled mess.”
Annie P: “Um, but I didn’t mean tangles in my hair, I meant the tangled mess of my life.”
Annie W: “Oh…hm…”
Annie P: “…”
Annie W: “Um, I don’t have a comb that big.”
Annie P: “I do. It’s in Colorado. I’m going to get it.”
Annie W: “Sweet! Can I go?”
Annie P: “No. Get out of my car.