Freefalling

Do you have a favorite song? Of course you do, and probably for a myriad of reasons such as it reminds you of a particular time in your life, a certain person, an emotion you felt when someone broke your heart, or how you felt when you broke someone else's, and you were overcome with guilt. I think if I reflect back I can name a few songs that, over time, have become embedded into the fibrous institution of my brain, my soul, my being. And they are all complicated.

"King of Pain" by The Police reminds me of my two weeks with my arm in traction over my head in the hospital after I got a blood clot from the infusaport that delivered my chemotherapy. The lyrics were arcane, coded, and just seemed to fill all the little niches in my seemingly empty life at that point.

Kathy's Song, by Simon and Garfunkel reminds me of the night I first found out I had cancer and having to face my mom and dad, in the cold January room of New England Medical Center, and then me, not quite 18, beginning the life of a cancer patient; after they left for the night, I lay in my bed in room 722, and listened to the song on repeat until I fell asleep.

"On Every Street" by Dire Straits somehow reminds me of dating Amanda; I used to listen to it in my truck, the one my dad gave me and I still drive, on repeat, as I drove downtown, home from the bars in Portsmouth, trying to sift through all the trigonometry, calculus, and rocket science that is dating, and wondering why it was so easy with Amanda

I think the blessing, or the curse, of being a songwriter and English teacher is that I inherently try to analyze the nuances of everything in life--the shades of grey, the hues, the sighs. I do this with everything, and sometimes things just get too complicated

And I was never a big Tom Petty fan

Alas, enter the John Mayer cover of Petty's "Freefalling," which, to date, seems to incessantly occupy the airwaves of my mind, my headphones, and my house. Its a spellbinding cover.

As far as I can tell, God has given me two amazing gifts: the artistry to craft a song, from the music to the lyrics to the vocals, and the ability to put my son to sleep by singing, dancing, and swaying to music. The second one has come in more handy lately.

Callum loves the song Freefalling, and, just last night, I put a fussy, hot, nurse-weary infant to sleep by swaying him gently while the song played on the iPod dock on top of the fridge. But I never liked Tom Petty, and I certainly didnt like the song Freefalling. But I guess thats just how I feel lately, and when I listen to the song, it becomes more apparent just what we're doing here on earth. Freefalling, to me, is a song about an individual who defies stereotypes and social norms, unabashedly, trying to find a place in a convoluted (but seemingly normal, everyday life) kind of world. Does that make sense? But there are no twisted, extended metaphors or flowery images or mixing of color and emotion. Its just a simple statement about living. The song, just, is.

"Freefalling" just is what it is, and its no more than that, and that is a good thing. Sometimes, I think, there has to be no deeper meaning. Sometimes life is plenty beautiful and surprising just as it is; it hits you in that same nonchalant, unabashed way. God bless those moments. When your 6 week old son falls asleep in your arms, head on your shoulder, mouth agape, swaying to John Mayer's mellow rendition of Freefalling, you dont ask questions, and you dont try to find the deeper meaning in it, because there isnt one. It is what it is, and you let it happen. You dont want to get lost in the complication of trying to find the meaning, the significance, the nuance and the hue. You want to let the moment move through your soul and do what it will with you.

You want to freefall.