All the Weight

On a plane flying into Kansas, and it starts it’s initial descent. The flight attendant rings in and reminds us once again to make sure our seat belts are securely fastened and that, like the captain said earlier, things are going to get a little bumpy. I slept through that part. Dread fills me and I think about how I wish she hadn’t said that. I hate turbulence. But then, who likes it?

I start soothing myself in my normal practice of trying to mentally rise above my lite plane fear. I fly a lot, and it’s always been ok. I remember an article my mom read about turbulence that was written by a pilot, and how it’s basically impossible for an airplane to just fall out of the sky. I start an inner monologue about how there is no point in being scared because right now I am strapped inside this big metal object hurdling thousands of feet above the earth–a decision I chose–and it will either land safely or crash but worrying about it doesn’t do a thing, not a damn thing.

And that’s when it clicked like a flood of an “Aha!” moment in my brain, just like that. That this is a parallel, and I’m not even at BeachCamp. That worrying about who I really am or worrying about whether or not this person will want me or worrying whether this plane will crash to the ground serve no purpose and make no difference. I am who I am, she will want me or she won’t, the plane will land or it will crash. And, except for the latter, it will all be ok. And in the case of the latter, I’ll be dead so it really won’t be my problem any more.

It’s like this: worry is a weight and it’s heavy and consuming and pointless. It has sucked the life out of me off and on for a few solid months, and that my friends is not an acceptable thing. It’s about control, really. I want to control who I am, and I can do that in some ways, but I can’t in others. Not the inherent things. I can’t control whether or not somebody wants me like I want them. I can’t control whether this plane stays in the air or not–I have as much control over those things as the slightly creepy guy strapped in the seat next to me. But then I think to myself, “I do control some things!” I’m taking control of what I’m doing with my life. I’m taking control of my finances. I’m getting things together to make this trip happen in two years. Those are things I’m controlling. But then I start thinking that I’m not really in control of those things. My world could split open in some way and change everything, and I will be in control of nothing. I could lose both of my jobs tomorrow in freak fires and have no finances to speak of. So if this is not control, what is it?

Here’s what it is, and this is better: enjoying the ride. Making the most out of what you have, because what you have is not static. This plane will go down or it won’t, and I can either spend my time gripped in fear or marveling about how surreal it is to see the tops of the clouds, how blue the sky is, how quick the trip. I can be uncomfortable and ashamed about who I am, or I can be embracing and known. She’ll want me or she won’t. I can be in agony, consuming, consuming agony about it or I can give it my best shot and if it doesn’t work out be completely ok. That this doesn’t define me, that there are other people, that life goes on and everything is copasetic. I can do my best with what I have, and that doesn’t involve worrying. That is the opposite of worrying. Things are going to get turbulent, and all you can do is make sure your seatbelt is securely fastened, and after that you can do nothing at all other than sit back and make sure your head is in the right place. Because that is the only thing we have true control over.

Why She’s My Best Friend

It’s fake, by the way.

A Bit of a Song I’m Perfecting (Revised 10/10)

This one’s gonna be a good one. I’ll probably write another verse and “Come out of your window” chorus. Thanks for the inspiration, HT.

Come Out Of Your Window
Copyright 2008 Erin Brown

I’ve been out of it for days
I have been carrying this weight
Hoping you carry the same
But haven’t told.

I do not recognize myself
These hands that hold this fire belong to someone else
And if she should touch you
I’d be jealous to the bone.

I’ve been gasping at the depths
Pins and needles have stabbed me in the chest
As though my heart was sleeping
And is slowly waking up.

I’ve been rocked by the throes of it
The prose I wrote of it
Reduced me to a poet
Writing lovesick sonnets, longing for your heart.

So come out of your window
Where I’m waiting in the wings
Hoping to hear you throw
Your confession to the wind
For I know not what ties
Bind your heart, and I
Pray that they are the same ones that bind mine.

I am in dire straights
This ice is thin, about to break
But desire makes me hesitate
And I am unable to say a thing.

And I’m so fucking worn out
Cuz I can’t think of anything else
Except for all the ways how
We could be ok

If you would just come out of your window
Where I wait for you below
Singing songs to you that you know
And always have.
But do they suddenly sound brand new?
They haunt me, do they haunt you?
I could stand right here and want you
Until you want me back.

So come out of your window
And tell me what you want
Tell me how to stop being unearthed.
Plant me in the dirt
Beneath your balcony
Where I can wait endlessly
For you to sing them back to me.

The Completion of Something New

Like that piano song.

My Careful Confession
2008 Copyright Erin Brown

From the depths of my bout
You know I’m calling you out
Wondering when you’ll come down
From the top of your cloud
I heard thunder where you are and I don’t want
You to be struck
For somebody else
And I’m burning with cold
And I’m learning the ropes
And I’m holding my breath waiting on your return
I swear you’re the only thing keeping me warm

It’s hard to rely on a straight line
To curve around and save you just in time
My mouth is going dry swearing it’s fine.

From my slow hesitations comes my careful confession
Faint, but gaining strength
Can you feel it resonating in your heart?
Like a song?
I’m hanging by a thread
Wondering if what you said
Could have possibly meant anything different.
While my heart beats in my chest twenty strong.

It’s hard to rely on a straight line
To curve around and save you just in time
My mouth is going dry swearing it’s fine.

It’s hard to know where to stand
When nothing’s beneath your feet but sinking sand
I’m so tired of saying, “This is not out of hand”.

It won’t go away
I tried to make it fade
But it won’t let me be
Until you say
You feel it for me.
No it won’t go away
Because I’ve tried to make it fade
And it won’t let me be
Until you say
You feel it for me

From the depths of my drought
You know I’m coming on out
To the world, have you heard who I’m crazy about?
Don’t worry heart, because I’m finally sure.

And it’s hard to know where to go
When nothing around you really looks like a road
But I’m gonna follow the sun because it always
I’m gonna follow the sun because it always
I’m gonna follow the sun because it always knows.

Crushing pt.3

This silence I’m keeping:
My secrets keep seeping
Into the air when I’m sleeping
And you know what?
I would let you catch them if you swear to treat them soft.

The things that I’m thinking
These thoughts that keep creeping
Into my head are misleading
But you know what?
I would get carried away if only you would come along.
–Copyright 2008 Erin Brown

There’s tea leaves talking
Heads up pennies in my pocket
Dead star like a rocket
The arc of my grieving.

It feels like no fear
It feels like no doubt
It feels like inside out
The ashes stir.
–IG

Oh, the Monies You Will Make

Sometimes you get paid for scooping poop. Sometimes you get paid for building a bunny house with your coworker. Sometimes you get paid for scratching a steer behind his ears. Sometimes you get paid for standing on your feet for 7 hours making people dairy desserts. And sometimes you get paid for taking a nap on a cozy chair curled up with a soft sleeping baby who laughs in his sleep.

I’ll let you guess which one is my favorite.

Purely for My Amusement

The time that I’ve taken
I pray it’s not wasted
Have I already tasted
My piece of one sweet love?
Ready and waiting
For a heart worth the breaking
I’d settle for an honest mistake in the name of one sweet love.
–Sara Bareilles

What I am to you is not real
What I am to you, you do not need.
What I am to you is not what you mean to me
Give me miles and miles of mountains and I’ll ask for the sea.
–Damien Rice

Oh, the fear I’ve known
That I might reap the praise of strangers and end up on my own.
–Indigo Girls

Goodness

I start my new old job tomorrow.

The temptation here is to have a slightly negative attitude going into it. But no, I cannot go there. This is a good thing, this is something I’ve choesen for myself, this is something I’m excited about. I can start the brand new budget next week. I can potentailly start saving up to $250 a week, next week. That is amazing. This is something that was clearly meant to be: I walked up looking for a job ASAP they were currently hiring for ASAP.

Goodness.

The Start of Many New Things

Good good good. All good things are happening.

My dad announced the other night that he would be my life coach/manager because I need managing and he is a very good manager. This is true, I do, and he is. We had our first meeting tonight. We came up with a backlog, i.e. goals I have that need accomplishing. We are setting 2 week intervals for accomplishing them. Here are the things he came up with.

Things: Get a part time job ASAP. Establish a budget. Save $250 a week. Have a $1000 emergency fund established. Work on time management priorities: 1 hr/day on music management (finding places to play, sending out emails, etc.), 1/hr a day on writing music, working out 4 days/wk, time for necessary chores and babysitting, and 8 hours of sleep a night.

We set up a reasonable budget, and determined how many hours a week I would need to work, and at what rate, to meet budget goals. My dad suggested that I look into working at Goodberry’s again. Gasp.

So, I drove over to Goodberry’s where the supervisor I’m friends with was working, and tomorrow after I’m done at the museum he is going to call the manager and tell her to hire me for the part time supervisor position they are looking to fill ASAP (the job that I had, that I was looking to get ASAP). So, as much as I disliked the job in the end (due to the manager at the time who was a *you-know-what* and got fired after I left because she was a *you-know-what*), I will get hired back *hopefully* tomorrow, and most likely for the $11/hr that I left at. With any luck. And I will suck it the hell up for however long I need to suck it the hell up, because I have goals that I need to meet, dammit.

This is good for many reasons: A) I will be making $11/hr and probably working 5 days a week. A lot of hours, a lot of pay = a lot of money. B) Since I will be working nights, this will leave me free for all of the extra hours the museum will throw my way. C) I know the job and was really really good at it. No learning new things, just getting refreshed. Also, my friend said the new manager is nice.

This will also suck for many reasons: A) It will kill most of my free time, so all of my free time will be spent on the necessary things: chores, music, sleep. So I will basically be falling off the face of the planet. I will keep my commitments such as Cov. group and playing with the worship band. BUT Goodberry’s will be slowing down a lot going into winter, so it won’t be nearly as insane as it would have been in the summer, where I used to get home at 2:30am some nights and had to turn around and wake up early for the museum (or, sometimes, not wake up). Due to scheduling (assuming that I get the job, and that I will have the same schedule as when Ieft), I might not have a single day where I don’t have any job to go to. My Goodberry nights off would have to be Tuesday and Wednesday, and my museum days off are Friday, Saturday, Sunday. So I would be working some job 7 days a week. But I can do it. I’ve done it before, and I’ve just had a long season of rest, and I am motivated to make things happen.

Also I’m writing things I like again. This is good good good. I need to go to bed, but I will leave you with something fresh from the writing factory.

The Only Polished(ish) Piece of the Song I’m Writing
Copyright 2008 Erin Brown

We will splinter without Your shelter
The boulders we carry will drown in the water
And not pull us under, so go out farther
To find that we’re fine and float out with the tide.

The Start of Something New

Like a piano song.

Copyright 2008 Erin Brown. Don’t steal it, yo.

From the depth of my bout
You know I’m calling you out
Wondering when you’ll come down from the top of your cloud
I heard thunder where you are and I don’t want
You to be struck
For somebody else.

I’m burning with cold
And I’m learning the ropes
And I’m holding my breath waiting on your return
I swear you’re the only thing keeping me warm.

It’s hard to rely on a straight line
To curve around and save you just in time
My mouth is going dry swearing it’s fine.