Hey there, Wonderfuls…Context for today’s offering comes by way of a new artist whose soulfulness has me head over heels in love with his giftedness. James Arthur’s song, “Say You Won’t Let Go” (2016), could stand alone by virtue of his amazing voice and musicality–but, his gift resonates much deeper than that!!!
His lyric, “I’m gonna stay with you until we’re grey and old”, is the icing on the cake that helped me with something I’ve been wrestling with (and, trying not to be self-critical about).
In a nut-shell, I was at a 2-day workshop, and spied a psychologist I used to work with a few years back.
He is one of the kindest people I know; yet, I made a point of avoiding him (easy, given the large number of people).
I was really worried to find that the people-pleaser in me didn’t convince me to ignore my instincts and approach him during one of our ten-minute coffee breaks.
Who are you…who are you becoming?”, I asked myself.
Well, days later, James Arthur’s song provided the rationale for my action…or, should I say, inaction.
Just as his song reflects a genuine commitment to authentic relationship–rather than superficial connection (eg. fleeting sex-appeal and glorified one-night-stands), I didn’t want to engage in a light-and-fluffy—“Hi, how have you been…this is what’s new with me..” conversation.
(*And, just to be clear, Dr. C. and I had nothing–and everything–but a platonic relationship*) .
It’s just that previous/spontaneous occasions for re-connection allowed for privacy–and opportunities to remind him of how much his caring, encouragement, and belief in me had–and does–mean to me. And, I can never express that without choking up.
But, even more than that–he advised me not to become a social worker (“It will be a waste of your gifts…will break your heart. Become a psychologist!”). At the time, I laughed off the notion…but, lately, there are times when I’m not sure he was wrong. Such was the case those two particular days; and I didn’t want to look him in the eyes and pretend that I am the epitome of serenity and confidence…
So, in the interest of integrity, I chose to sit with my guilt, and keep my distance…to say something genuine or nothing at all…
Anyway, here’s the post my worry inspired…I hope you find it at least entertaining, if not relatable. 🙂
As a social worker who offers clients healthier ways of coping with their—“You’ve-got-some-nerve(s)”—self-recriminations,
never let it be said that I’m a statistic…a counselor graphically illustrative of the, “Those who can’t do, teach”, stereotype.
That’s not to say I have it all together, for,
and striving to be a super human—
when it comes to my own self-assessment/growth, at times I don’t just over-think…I over shrink….and, most often in the context of co-morbidity.
(Co-morbidity means having two ailments at once….in my case, (Need-To-) Please Disease and Analysis Paralysis.)
And this is how in a blink, a little (look at) me-time becomes a binge-watching,
ice cream and butter-scotching,
“How much is progress, and how much is botching?”
of the over-due
I couldn’t get to
in the creative prime-rhyme hours of my day.
However, and as you may know, I am a huge believer in saving graces…
And given this—much-more-than-a-glance—stance, co-morbidities make for whimsical comorbid-ditties 🙂
(*A Shout-Out to the awesome Pat Benatar, here’s my take on “Hit Me With Your Best Shot”*)
“Well, you’re a real tough kookie with a long history,
of writing little scripts about what you “see”…
before you stick your other foot in your lipsticked face,
you better make sure to set a reasoned pace…
so, hit (us) with you best plot—why don’t you hit us with your best plot….”
(‘Couldn’t resist a stats/scatter(ed) plot pun as I chart my growth.)
Okay, back to the point….
Having throne my last Queen-of-all pity party/cold-weather-get (it)-togethers …
(which, BTW, left me feeling like a total loser—and, then, begrudging relieved when I realized the right people didn’t show up because I was too bitter to usher any heart-felt invitations)
I was caught off guard by my seeming inability to come up with any pun-snippets for this weekend’s post…it felt like I hadn’t drawn a blank this dense since discovering my knack for spontaneous wordplay.
I wracked my brain until, resigned, I considered that I’d somehow lost my Flo Jo—my running commentary of quirky reflections…
And that was just the wake-up call I needed…the knowing that I was allowing myself to become distracted by over-blown dissatisfaction.
“What’s the meta-for-you?” I asked me, myself, and I.
Get a grip. Take (“Jack And The Bean) Stalk” of your guardin’ variety defensiveness…
that—chip on your boulder, weight of the world—disappointment better suited for someone who expected to be flying high-wired at an indulgent beach picnic…
only to find that—having bitten into a Sandy (Duncan) Donut—she’s gritting her teeth!”
So, having remembered the futility of swimming against the pride, I humbly accepted that I’m not a child—an (“I can’t believe he) Lost!” Boy—whose continued protests add to the swell of uncool pro-Clay murmurs that, lo these many years, still fuels the criminalization of Reuben Studdard’s (2003) American Idol win…. and the popularity of Scottish band-hits.
Speaking of Boyz (II Men), having “come to the end of the row”, and, asking myself, “Should I stay oar should I go, now”—
(“stay” defined as banging my head against a brick wall)
I’m focusing on my willingness to “walk 500 trials…and I will walk 500 more, just to be the one who walked a thousand miles to (find an open door)”…
So, hold down the fast-forward button on the cassette player, Dazzlers, it’s time to get with the (current) program(ming)…
As we speak, I’m listening to Rick Dees Top 40; and here’s where—in answer to dare—I
“Up, down, pump you up, said up, down pump you up…”
And show you more of what I’m made of with my, “Girl, hit your halle-who-ya!”—reveal….
No longer “green around the gills” while navigating this part of the new world, I’m a relieved (Bruno) Martian…
“I (don’t) think I wanna merry you” with upbeat songs and nostalgic bursts of joy “until we’re grey and old”—I KNOW it! 🙂
So, to end on a Happy-Daze frame of effer-reference (an eager learner, I can’t help going back to (old) school–my primary source of inspiration),
here’s a message to the Hintsti-haters—those negative seeds of doubt that try to weedle their way into our psyches as we move closer to the light…
“Spring has sprung….the winter of my dis-content is long behind me…so, rather than starting something you can’t finish, here’s my challenge to you:
Accept that, in your effort to beat me, all you’re (un)doing is whipping me into a (soul) feeding frenzy where—so (breath of fresh) aerated—I’m becoming light enough to join the “twilight milky way and…the fireflies dance, and silver moon sparkle…So, Whisk Me”!”
(Oh, and by-the-way…I’ve decided to send Dr. “X” an email/greeting to let him know I’ve been thinking of/appreciating him 🙂 )
As ever, thank you for being here, Amazers…and, just so you know, it’s not lost on me that you are hear with me, rain or shine…pity party or joyful celebration…it means the (new) world to me 🙂
God bless you and your loves 🙂
P.S. As always, here’s most of my wordplay frames of reference…and, Wikipedia filled in the blanks (dates) for the songs I loved then and now.
“(So You Had A) Bad Day”…Daniel Powter (2005); Pat Benatar’s lyrics for “Hit Me With Your Best Shot”: “Well, you’re a real tough cookie with a long history, of breaking little hearts like the one in me, before I put another notch in my lipstick case, you better make sure to put me in my place, hit me with you best shot…”; Scatter(ed) plot, and chart my growth are statistics and (story) plots puns; Flo-Jo is a “lost my mo jo” pun (Florence Griffith Joyner was an American track and field star/Olympian); “What’s a meta-for-you” is a metaphor pun based on the lyric, “What the matter for you, hey, gotta no respect…” from the hit song, “Shaddup Your Face”, Joe Dolce (1980); Sandy Duncan makes for the Dunkin’ Donuts pun—she’s an award winning American actress whose roles included Peter Pan (see video); swimming against the pride is a “swimming against the tide” pun, which brings us back to the beach and allows for Lost Boys pun and Clay (Aiken) pun—he lost to singer, Ruben Studdard, by a relatively narrow margin in 2003, American Idol competition—swell means “cool” and “increase in size” in my pro-Clay murmurs pun—and, to add another layer, The Proclaimers are a Scottish band that had a (1988) hit with “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” and the lyrics include, “…and I would walk 500 more, just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door”; band-hits and criminalization are puns tied Clay/Ruben “controversy”, and The Proclaimers; end of the row is a pun/nod to Boyz II Men (1981) hit, “End Of The Road”—and, “should I stay oar should I go” is a nod to “Should I Stay Or Should I Go”, a 1982 hit by British band, The Clash—and oar is a row (your boat) pun tied to End of The Row(d); in answer to dare makes for an “answer to prayer” pun that paves the way for my (“Uptown Funk, 2014) Bruno Mars nod (“Up down, pump you up…” chant) and Girl, show your halle-who-ya (as in “when asked girl, show ‘em who you are)—my nod to his lyric “girl, hit the hallelujah”; “green around the gills” is an expression meaning “feeling sick”—and Martians (aliens) are green—which ties to the continued Bruno Mars pun (I want to merry you—inspired by his, “I Think I Wanna Marry You” 2014 hit)—which ties to James Arthur’s lyric (“‘m going to stay with you) until we’re grey and old” (from his (2016) hit, “Say You Won’t Let Go”; weed-le is a wheedle pun; winter of my dis-content is a “Winter Of Our Discontent” pun (John Steinbeck’s last novel, published in 1961); so (breath of fresh) aerated is a “breath of fresh air” pun, for aerating me (infusing me with air) that makes me light enough to join the “twilight milky way and…the fireflies dance, and silver moon sparkle…a nod to the band, Six Pence None The Richer, who have such a lovely hit with “Kiss Me” (which inspired my Whisk Me pun/victory cry) . 🙂