Author: Michelle

How do you ruin karma?

There is a hotel up the street from work that plants palm trees outside the building each Spring. Each Winter, they wrap the trees in insulation so they don’t die. Each Spring, they unwrap the dead trees and replace them with new ones. Portland, Oregon is not exactly a tropical paradise. We aren’t really designed for giant palm trees here.

As I walked past the hotel this afternoon, I wondered a couple of things when I noticed that they’d just completed the annual palm tree replacement. For one thing, I wondered if trees have feelings. I don’t believe they do, but they could have some sort of tree feelings that humans can’t relate to. In a tree universe, maybe palm trees are considered the most sensitive and wise trees. Who knows.

Then I wondered, as I often do, about the existence of Karma. Which I don’t believe in, but is always interesting to what if about.

If trees have feelings, this place has a big Karmic debt accumulating. As well as a financial debt. It can’t be cheap to bring in cranes every year to plant 20 foot tall palm trees. Maybe they get a discount for being frequent purchasers. Or perhaps they have a subscription. Or a warranty. Anyway. IF Karma exists and IF trees have feelings, then the people responsible for the annual palm tree massacre are in BIG trouble when they get reincarnated. If, uh, reincarnation exists. Which I don’t think it does, but what if ?

A lot of ifs, I grant you.
Ifs are a specialty of this wondering wanderer. Certainly I’d rather what if about the feelings of trees than about my own feelings sometimes.

Like now, for instance?

Oh, never mind about that.

Think of the trees…

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Can you go home again?

She broke down and let me in
Made me see where I’ve been
Been down one time
Been down two times
I’m never going back again
-Fleetwood Mac/Never Going Back Again

Today I don’t need a replacement
I’ll tell them what the smile on my face meant
My heart going boom boom boom
“Hey” I said “You can keep my things,
they’ve come to take me home.”
–Peter Gabriel/Solsbury Hill

There are different ways of going home. To a place, to a person, to a feeling. To a positive or negative physical or emotional space. We can go away willingly, reluctantly or even by force. We can run away.

Sometimes you walk away
Or maybe run
Sometimes it’s a plane ride
So far away
You can’t look back from there

It doesn’t really work though. You have to work out the issues from home before you find your own. Sometimes you do have to leave, but just leaving isn’t all there is to it. It’s very easy to end up with the same sort of dysfunction you ran away from if you don’t work out how to heal. If you just shove everything away, you don’t heal and you don’t learn how to forgive and move on. You just think you move on.

The good kind of home stays with you even if you are not physically there, if you’ve been lucky enough to ever have it. The space where people love you, where people let you be who you are, and try to keep you safe.

If you don’t have that kind of place, or that kind of people, you have to find them on your own. Have to. I think that’s accurate. It’s a need, not just a want. You can be independent and solitary, but for most of us the heart wants a home. Not only a place to live, but a sense of belonging. Not being owned or controlled, but being loved and accepted. Understood. Recognized.

You probably need to find peace within yourself before you can find a home anywhere or with anyone.

Kind of a dirty trick.

Catch-22-ish.

Songs I will never sing to a child I will not have

One of the many lists I’ve written over the years was a list of songs I would have sung to my child. Even though I didn’t intend to have one. For a long time I carried it around, written longhand on a notepad, wherever I went. I went to quite a few places. Running to or from? Texas. France. Oklahoma. Oregon. I think it may have even gone to England and Germany. I started it when I was in my twenties. Maybe after Texas. Definitely after Eugene. I don’t quite remember when “I don’t think I really want to have kids” became “I definitely do not want to.” After a wedding, probably. Not mine. After my first one, before the second.

The original list was torn and stained. Falling apart. Coffee, beer, tears. I wonder what happened to it? I know I had it in the late 90’s. The last time I looked for it was to put a Nirvana song on it.

Polly.

Or was it Ben Harper?

I couldn’t find the list. I never saw it again. Every once in a while, I hear a song I’d like to add, but it’s too late. I’d never be able to put it entirely back together. It was several pages long. Doodles in the margins.

Sometimes I think there are probably doodles in my brain. If my brain had margins, there would definitely be doodles.

Doodles and cobwebs.
Piles of dust and old bones…
The ghosts of discarded lovers.
Oh, wait–wrong list.

Ben Harper:
Forever
Waiting On An Angel
Welcome To The Cruel World

Francis Cabrel:
Petite sirène
Je t’aimais, je t’aime et je t’aimerai

Don McLean:
Vincent
American Pie (and I’d stop singing half through because it’s too long)

Cat Stevens:
Moon Shadow

Elton John:
Love song
All the Nasties
Who am I kidding, let’s just say large swaths of Honky Chateau, Yellow Brick Road and Elton John, all of Tumbleweed Connection, Madman Across The Water and Captain Fantastic.
But especially Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy, Levon, and Where To Now St. Peter.

Elvis. The One True Elvis. Costello:
Alison
Angels Wanna Wear My Red Shoes
Mystery Dance
Town Cryer
Little Triggers

Peter Frampton:
Baby I Love Your Way

CCR:
Looking Out My Back Door

CSNY:
Our House

Rolling Stones:
Beast of Burden
Paint It Black

Talking Heads:
Once in a Lifetime
And She Was

Heart:
Dog and Butterfly

Billie Holiday:
Good Morning Heartache

Bob Marley:
Three Little Birds
No Woman No Cry

The Beatles:
Let It Be
Hey Jude
In My Life
Here Comes The Sun
There was a very long list of Beatles songs. Very.

Stevie Wonder:
Knocks Me Off My Feet

What would I add now? The Lumineers. Someone should sing Stubborn Love and Morning Song to a baby. P!nk, profanity and all. Noir Désir and Détroit.

Storm Large– a baby needs to know that big girls are not built to walk the straight and narrow. Especially a baby girl.