Should bes

I should already be free. I had it all. But I clearly could not handle it. We came back from the sea, made an album .. and in the middle of it I went crazy. That is the only way I can see it right now. There was rescue even then, but no, I destroyed (not only) my life and I still don’t really know why. Tired of trying to be perfect? But what a way to rebel against that. Then, in the aftermath, hideously depressed, near-drowned in guilt and shame and grief, I clawed my way far enough out to survive, build yet another life – but made further hideous decisions that mean I am right back in the Hamster Wheel, fighting again to get out. I have no idea if I am “better” yet, if I ever will be.

I would say I can’t live with it, but I am doing.

I am trying every day to appreciate what I have (which ain’t nothing! By all the gods that don’t exist, it is so very very far from nothing!).

But it hurts. Still. That I am not free, like my soul says I should be. I am re-Minioned, rewound and replaying. Obsessed with plotting and planning what I know I can do – escape. Knowing I can’t wait, knowing that this time I will have to give up part of what is good about where I am now.

I think I need to forgive myself – I can only see that redemption in the resumption of my dreams. Me, a small boat, and the sea…


Fantasy Heroes

I think my job on stage, with my various rock bands, has always to be a fantasy. To be powerful, commanding, charming, sexy, scary. To be what the men (and some women) want and the women (and men) want to be. To represent all they wish for, to make them feel, for a little while, that they have that, that they *are* that (or could be). I don’t think I use that power to its fullest extent. Because I don’t understand it.

I never had heroes myself, you see. I never felt that. I never got that from all the bands I have been to see, all the music I have heard. To me, how could I? Unless it is me, personally, up there doing just that, I feel … nothing much. I can admire and respect the skill, the hard work that has gone in, I can appreciate the result as art itself – but there is no transference. They are not me. Their achievements are not mine. I don’t own them.

I am not a *fan* – of sports teams, business heroes, great scientists, artists. I am not a patriot. I never felt company loyalty. When people say “us” and “we” for their football team or country, when they clearly see that team’s achievements and failure as *theirs*, despite that all they do is watch and read and talk about it – I don’t understand. They are not out on the pitch doing it, they are not managing the team, or running the company that pay the wages… So how can they have that feeling? Just. Don’t. Get. It.

Except in two areas. Sailing – as skipper or crew, we all become one with the boat, and we *cannot* do it alone. We are one. There is genuinely an “us”. We survive only together. We succeed only together. Or people get hurt (or worse), and in a very immediate fashion. Right before our eyes. For reasons either definitely NOT in our power (the weather) and reasons absolutely within our power (our preparedness and effort). It’s REAL.

I can guess climbing, exploring, subsistence farming and tribal level warfare would be the same. (Maybe startups come close, with the economy as the weather? Not sure on that one).

And the second area is with the right partner in life, where together we are more than each alone could ever be, wielding all our respective powers as one, pulling exactly together in the same direction. Stronger, better, more…