Landlords knocking at my door cussing me out
Got laid off my job the night before
Can’t figure how
I’m gonna fix tomorrow away
If today’s still a mess
Can you tell me what’s the point man?
It all seems meaningless
I wish that I could step away and breathe
This world’s trying to swallow me
Clear away the clouds inside my head
So I’ve played this song (Happy) by Natasha Bedingfield fifty-three times already. Okay fifty-four if you count right now. My tween-let hums it while she’s doing her homework. I must hear it in my sleep, because I’ve awakened with it humming in my head.
“Someone just tell me, that it’s okay now. What are you worried about?”
Well uh-um-err Tash, I got plenty. There’s rent, grad school, there’s the tween-let that’s growing up and out of everything. Within the last two years a major relationship tanked big time, my health felt the need to remind me that it must be taken care of, precious members of my family have transitioned, passed, shuffled off the mortal coil.
“Got my dreams, got my life, got my love, got my friends, got the sunshine above.
I realize I didn’t sign up for easy, ‘cause this definitely isn’t. I’m in the driver’s seat, even though at this juncture I realize how often I’ve let others take the wheel. The map is unfolding inside me and I see myself on the other side of this, it is about trusting my own internal GPS. I do have a lot, like Bedingfield sings about; “my dreams, my life, my love, my friends and the sunshine above.” The hard part is staying true to what is unfolding, trusting the internal guide.
This is my trip; I’m doing this without a net, no stunt doubles or blue screens, no wires or smoke and mirrors. It’s all me, with my foot on the gas, a nervous smile, imagining the beautiful place I’m going, we’re going. We’re in this together. Be ready, I just may stop and ask for directions.
Why am I making this hard on myself when there are so many beautiful reasons I have to be happy?
Get your grind on girl, it’s your life it’s your world.