Posts Tagged ‘Sadness’

Tears In My Beard

April 14, 2011

I’ve got tears in my beard over you

It’s been near on a year since we’re through

The twine that helped bind us as one

Grew frayed, gave way, we were done


It took weeks for my sheets to lose

The perfume that you always overuse

In the night as I turn to your side

I’d smell, I’d remember and I’d cry


I’ve got tears in my beard over you

I take blame for the pain you’ve been through

To be close to a man like me

Is no place for a woman so sweet



20 in 1

March 5, 2011

You watched me age twenty years in one

Turn from hero into drunk

Saw the light in my eyes slowly fade

Walk out into the ocean ashamed

Saw my smile come through less and less

Heard more silence than openness

Watched me close on down, move out of town

Throw my hands to the sky

And walk away

The Time Traveler’s Blues

October 13, 2010

Part 1

The funny thing about time traveling is the amazing adaptive powers of the human. Movies most often portray the transplant as wildly confused. When and if the person is able to fit into society unnoticed, it is a very long and exaggerated process. I have not had much of these periods of utter confusion and helplessness. My symptoms have always been a low, constant feeling of sadness and longing. These isolating emotions serve as a reminder that I may never be one hundred-percent comfortable.

Despite being diagnosed with chronic depression, I have always resisted medication because I know that the power to master this pervasive, dark blanket of melancholy is within my ability. I know now that this faint flicker of optimism is the same spark that burns in all the characters we have come to know in this predicament – the belief that we will one day return home. The sadness and hopelessness that follows is the constant reminder that we have spent another day getting further away from our home and loved ones.

How do I know that I am a stranded time traveler? The signs are everywhere. Do you know when you are wandering through a thrift store, junk shop or antique store and some piece catches your attention? You’re not sure why, but it reminds you of something. You look at it, pick it up, turn it over, look at the price, give a half smile, put it back down and walk away. When this happens to me, there is an immediate flood of remembrance. Staring almost through the object, I can see the house where it came from, I can feel the life that surrounded it, I remember the dinners that were cooked in the house, I can smell it, and I can see all the other objects that occupied the room where this item absorbed so much energy. I can stare and float in the ocean of those memories for hours.

Favorite foods? Not ours. They are reminders of another life, another time, another place. The taste, while wonderful and satisfying, is satisfying your brain more than anything else. You are momentarily at peace, comforted in a gauzy wash of hinted memories. Your wandering stops for a split second, your questions are answered. And then you swallow, the moment quickly fades, you open your eyes, and you are once again confused, off-balance, and then resigned and aware.

Objects and senses most often trigger these past memories, not living people. Those with whom we interact are mostly of this time. Perhaps the special bond that we make with a select few is the cyclical friendship that has existed since, well, existence. The friends and spouses with whom we have a deep, unchallenged bond are the same friendship (in spirit) that has continued on throughout time. The energy of a true partnership can transcend death in that it finds its way into other people, and more powerfully than that, these people continue to find each other.

As for passing another time-traveler on the street and sharing a knowing nod, it unfortunately does not happen. Most travelers are not aware of their specific predicament and hold it under the umbrella of general unease, unrest and depression. The realization of the true root of their isolation, if it ever comes, offers little solace, but rather an understanding and resignation. The chances of returning to any particular time are not within your lifetime, but rather it is lifetime after lifetime, bouncing from one time to another, leading to utter weariness and despair. As comforting as it may be to know that energies, feelings, emotions, experiences, and even entire lives can be passed on, or dispersed and distributed, it becomes a heavy burden when attempting to navigate one’s own position in their current time. It is all someone else more powerful than us that got this whole ball rolling. Is it possible that we will make our own contributions to this ever-growing ball of twine? Of course, it is inevitable, but the majority of our time will still be under the yoke of emotions and experiences of lives past.

Part 2

I am sad and alone and confused. The horror of what people can do to each other affects me deeply and drives me further towards yearning to be free of this life. There are people that I am sure I have known from lives past, but my isolation and restlessness prevents me from giving myself fully back to them. Of all the emotions and experiences I have had throughout these hundreds of years, the feeling that has stuck with me the most is loss.

The deep, all-consuming sorrow of the loss of a loved one transcends all time and space and has no means of dissolution or dispersion. With every waking moment as a child, to every object that sends me traveling, there has always been an over-bearing feeling of loss. There are times where the loss is manifested in the sadness over a simpler time that is now gone, a homelife before young adulthood took us from the nest, but the loss that hangs the heaviest is a lost love.

Losing your one true love changes you irrevocably. It mutates the human spirit. The body becomes burdened by sorrow and the energy that the brain emits must at least double. The questions, frustrations and inevitability of death will now forever come to define this person. Like most mutations, this will be passed on from generation to generation, or rather, life to life. Forever set upon the unquenchable desire to find this person in the next life, all future lives are spent searching, longing, saddened and unfulfilled, yet the time traveler bears the burden of not fully knowing why these emotions dictate their being. This ignorance adds frustration, confusion and at times, self loathing, to an already heavy load.

But many time travelers are people who come to be defined as great in their time and beyond.  Although burdened by their emotions, these people have a sense that they are different, timeless and therefore may posses a wider-ranging knowledge and desire to help mankind. Many, if not all, of our great leaders, artists, musicians and writers, work from a place of deep sorrow, but also a super-natural awareness that they posses the ability to make this life better for others, even if it will grant them little peace for themselves. There is an understanding that their own happiness is fleeting, for they carry the entire emotional lives of so many, and therefore, time may be best spent using this deeper knowledge to ease and improve the lives of others.

The greatest compliment for a songwriter is that a song feels “familiar,” as if it has always existed and was waiting for someone to grab it from the sky. These writers, while adept at receiving and interpreting the waves from the past, are merely time travelers. The familiarity of a musical piece comes from the hundreds, at times thousands, of years of human interaction and study by the writer. The entire range of emotional and personal contact has been explored in countless ways in countless settings. There is a weariness and understanding that so much of being human is timeless and cyclical. The talent of the writer lies in their ability to harness these deeply human sentiments and present them in a way that speaks to all people. Apart from the specific meaning or bend of the song, the ultimate message is that we are all the same and we have all been here before. These ideas are comforting, particularly to the majority of people who are new to this time and have only begun to hear the distant, cosmic rumbles that there is something strange beyond the surface of merely being human.

The searching of the time traveler is endless. Their life is a strange octopus’ garden of bric-a-brac speaking to something deep and distant. There is the constant pursuit of love, happiness and fulfillment, but it is checked daily with the futility of achieving such things, which has been revealed lifetime over lifetime. Some travelers do find their lost loved one. Some don’t realize or recognize them when they have them. And others are too damaged to even accept the possibility that this person is out there and waiting to be found. It is the duty of the time traveler to manage their burden, which in exchange can also be a gift by using their experience to help others. It is a sad fact that we must often ignore our personal desires, and this reluctant sacrifice most likely perpetuates the intense energies and emotions that keep the time traveler trapped in this cycle of regeneration, but there can be comfort in the fact that we will all be time travelers one day. And at the moment when the final time-traveling child is born, thus closing the door on all “new” lives, we will all finally recognize one another and our pain, and work together to be free.