Corners

No teasing myself. Can’t allow it.

I said Brandi Carlile and Brandi Carlile I must address. “No cutting corners!” my gymnastics coach would shout as we ran laps. This has translated into adulthood as me not being able to abandon much of anything. No cutting corners- in my workouts or in parties hosted, in being able to leave my bathroom without checking if the straightening iron is unplugged less than about 5 times or walking away from a restaurant booth without a double glance and thorough inspection of under the booth in case I am leaving anything behind, and especially with thoughts left untouched as I race laps around the perimeter of my mind. Brandi Carlile is now a corner and my foot. must. touch. corner…

Pause.

By the way, it sounded like I just unloaded what could be interpreted as OCD tendencies on my gymnastics requirements and that is not what I intended. I am certain that as a third grader I understood that it was an odd urge I had to complete the laps rigidly or spring up in class to wipe the chalk board completely. The left over chalk marks still irk me when I think of them. Would it have been too hard, Teacher, to just wipe the board entirely? Teacher asks 100 percent effort to be put forth, yet leaves tidbits of letters lurking on the chalkboard.

Rant. That felt good.

Brandi Carlile, I like tremendously. Fantastic artist, sometimes strikingly poetic and painful and what I love most about her is that I can listen to her music and find myself somber and stewing over the meanings of things that verge on depressing. My kind of music. I know what you are thinking. You are either like me, and love to be saddened or, you think I’m nuts. No argument found here. I’m not battling that analysis. I admit I am pulled to the melancholy. For goodness sake, I put ‘The Hours’ on and program the dvd player to loop the movie. So, I enjoy doing house tasks to the continuous playing of one of my absolute favorite movies, that others happen to find quite disturbing. Like I said, no debate here.

When I think of Ms. Carlile, aside from her talents, I think of a friend. I worked with this friend and had he not been my desk buddy, I may have slumped into a dark little mental dwelling for about a year. A life friend, this one.

I don’t have much to say (on a blog) beyond thanks to him. I enjoyed his conversation and variety of music during our workdays, and his detail-oriented mind was a huge resource for me to learn from. His life, I’ve learned, has challenged him to a match or two lately. Not just tennis, real life stuff. So, I hope he relies on his music and thoughtfulness to outstretch any moment he may find that tires his spirit.

Thinking, insightful men with dreams, I wish for you moments to relax and steer your self where you find not only obligation but true opportunities of heart. Find the water well. There is always a village in need of you.

So, this one goes out to a mutual Brandi Carlile fan (the one who turned me on to her music) and to a friend that, like I, has a hard time cutting corners. May your year end with an easier route to run, perhaps a round one.

I have put today’s music on a playlist that bounces from Radiohead to Nick Drake to Elliott Smith. I’ll spare you all from what that produces in my thought patterns. But, come October, this same unnamed friend will get another shout out… and he knows it too…