Worldly Wednesday: “The Woodpile,” Frightened Rabbit

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It’s been a long time coming, but I finally feel settled in some sort of groove these days.  This is in no way synonymous with phrases like, “of course I know what I’m doing,” “please ask me for directions and/or advice,” or “I’d love to tell you where I’m going to be in five years.”  Rather, what I mean is, I know what to do when catastrophe strikes, when I don’t know how to cook a squash, when my faucet is leaking, when I need to go to the E.R., when I’ve had a terrible day, and when things upset me.  I call one of my people.  That’s what I do.

You spend most of your 20s constructing yourself.  Somewhere around age 29 or 30 you have a sense of deep satisfaction that comes from having a fuller grasp of who you are and what you’re about.  And then you spend a good part of your 30s realizing that, to paraphrase President Obama, you didn’t build yourself alone.  You had a lot of help.  I know how to deal with the E.R. on a rainy Tuesday because a friend came with me when I hurt my knee.  I know how to process my terrible thoughts because I have friends who listen to them.  I know how to deal with the vagaries of my job because I have peers who can relate and tell me stories that remind me of my own issues.  Creating your own family is the very best part of growing up.

Far from the electric floor
Removed from the red meat market
I look for a fire door
An escape from the drums and barking
Bereft of all social charms
Struck dumb by the hand of fear
I fall into the corner’s arms
The same way that I’ve done for years
I’m trapped in a collapsing building


Come find me now, we’ll hide and
We’ll speak in our secret tongues
Will you come back to my corner?
Spent too long alone tonight
Would you come brighten my corner?
A lit torch to the woodpile (aye)


Dead wood needs to ignite
There’s no spark on a dampened floor
A snapped limb in an unlit pyre
Won’t you come and break down this door?
I’m trapped in an abandoned building


Come find me now, we’ll hide and
We’ll speak in our secret tongues
Will you come back to my corner?
Spent too long alone tonight
Would you come brighten my corner?
A lit torch to the woodpile (aye)
Come find me now, we’ll hide and
We’ll speak in our secret tongues

 

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