Living my life in the lyrics of my songs
You Live For The Fight When That’s All That You’ve Got.
Sometimes songs speak to you, and that one (Bon Jovi’s Livin’ On A Prayer) was blasting on the radio a few weeks ago right when I needed to hear it – and sing along with it, of course.
Challenges come to each and every one of us. I’ve read most of the enlightened doo-dah out there about how challenges make us grow and all, but a lot of times they also leave us feeling scared, uncomfortable and downright attacked. For me, when that happens my first reaction is to climb into my bed, pull up the covers and crack open a good book.
Only problem is, when I come up for air, there’s the challenge, squinting at me, smirking even. And I have to deal with it anyway.
And temper tantrums and hissy fits don’t help either.
For me this round all began with a frozen water pipe right around Christmas when the temperatures turned polar. Though that’s fixed now, a lot of other problems were uncovered and it looks like my trailer is just one big money pit. Actually, it doesn’t look like a dime has been sunk into it at all. When I look at it another song comes to mind.
Do I Stay Or Do I Go Now? If I stay it will definitely be trouble. If I go, though, what happens if it turns out to be double?
I prefer life in black and white, clear cut choices of right and wrong. Moral choices. Easy ones. Besides, I had a plan for that trailer. I picked out paint colours. I learned about stuff like drill bits. I bought a hammer, a tape measure and a caulking gun. Let me say it again – I bought a hammer. Do you know how many years I’ve lived without a hammer? I couldn’t see the point purchasing one when I only need it when I hang pictures - and then there’s usually a nicely sized rock available for the job. And, while putting up the pictures, I always sing If I Had A Hammer (cause I usually don’t) but, truth be told, I would never hammer in the morning, evening, all over this land – mostly because I have a tendency to crush my fingers.
I prefer wielding a pen. They say the pen is mightier than the sword, but I think it would fail sadly as a hammer. Just saying.
Of course I’m being facetious. Our words and the ideas behind them are likely some of the most powerful things in the universe. They might not do practical things immediately, like fixing a frozen pipe or putting up a photo – but they are the seeds of each and every action we take.
So when I get in a real conundrum, I try and use that pen to find a solution.
That’s why I like lists. Though I’m not one of those constant list scribblers, using my ballpoint to pick at the threads of every tangled ball of yarn life throws at me, I will make a list about the big things, the big challenges that mean big changes. It seems to clarify things. For example, with this problem, in the plus column I listed all the good things about being a home owner, from choosing your own colour scheme to hammering a picture to the dang-blasted wall if you’ve a mind to. But the negative column on this one is long and cumbersome, and it worries me. How good of a plumber am I? How about electrician? Carpenter? Drywaller?
Geez, if only I had a new roof, floor, plumbing and electricity, my trailer would be just cherry. Of course, that means I’ll have to build a new trailer.
I really don’t know how to build a trailer.
When it comes down to it, it’s a no-brainer. It is time to find a new home and get out from under this dinosaur. (Even when writing this, that wicked imp that props herself up on my left shoulder is cackling, smoke in hand, wheezing ‘so, you’re a giver-upper’. My teeth clench and I scowl and tell her to bugger off. After all, sometimes you have the wiggle room to choose your challenges, and Mr. Trailer, I don’t choose you. Not anymore.)
I know a guy who says he can take it off my hands, and he has all the skills needed to fix the place.
So now it’s another adventure for me – kind of a relief now the decision is made, both scary and exciting – you know, kind of like Going Off The Rails On A Crazy Train.