If I Die Young

Like me, many of you read, or were at least introduced to Mark Twain's Tom Sawyer as a child. For me it brings back memories of grade school musicals about the subject and my intense fear of Sawyer's nemesis, "Injun Joe",--incidentally I just at this moment realized how racist it is that the main antagonist is a murderous, thieving, Native American, but that will have to be saved for a later post on my literary blog.

My point in referencing Tom Sawyer is because of a specific scene in the book. After running away from home, and encountering a series of unfortunate events, Tom and a few of his friends are assumed to have drowned in the river. A funeral is planned, and I don't remember how or why, but Tom ends up in the rafters of the church as the funeral is being conducted. He sets up and watches the events unfold as his Aunt Polly and various others mourn his loss, and is privileged to see himself through the raw, honest eyes of those who grieve him.

I've been thinking of this story, and honestly been envious. I have to admit that the thought of being able to hear what people thought of me, or seeing who was really moved and affected by my death is an enticing thought to me. Don't get me wrong, I have no plans to be taken out anytime soon unless God so allows, but I think its something to think about. What would people say at your funeral? Who would show up? Would anyone? I think, if somehow given the chance, most people would be curious to see what actually transpires in response to their death. Its some kind of transcendent human need to know that our life held meaning outside of ourselves. That's what I'm getting at. How is my life impacting others? And the things I say, and thoughts I share, do they have meaning that transcend myself, or would they be buried forever with me?

_____________________

A penny for my thoughts,

Oh no, I'll sell 'em for a dollar.

They're worth so much more

After I'm a goner.

And maybe then you'll hear

The words that I've been singin'.

Funny when you're dead how

People start listenin'.

- excerpted from "If I Die Young" as sung by The Band Perry.

These days I feel like every day I wake up in a fog, fighting to see a reason I should get out of bed. Most days my reason wins out, and I get up to face the day. Occasionally, there are days that I'm not as strong as I wish I was, and I hide underneath the covers wishing that some state of unconsciousness would overtake me. The worst days though, are those in which I'm moving and breathing; speaking and laughing; sharing and loving; without meaning any of it. The days I had enough grace to put on my plastic smile and say the things Jesus would've said to people who wouldn't hear it any other way even if I had the nerve to tell them plainly.

I've always had a mask though, I think and now that I'm being honest with myself, I'm finding within my heads, thoughts that I hate to admit are there, but are nonetheless.

Worst of all, even in my lostness, I'm not really sure I want to be found right now. I don't think I could take another day of plastic smiles and the right word for the right situation. That would kill me right now, cause it wouldn't be real. I think I need to wander for a while, and as painful as it is for someone who has always been tied to some group or organization greater than himself, there is a sad peace in knowing that while I may be alone at least it will all be real.

So I guess in the end, right now I'd rather be lost in a dark forest with real haunts and shadows than sitting in a sandbox in front of holograph of the sea, pretending to feel the ocean breeze.

I'm not talking about God really. I know that He is good and all the other things I'm supposed to say about Him. I also honestly believe all that, and that Hope is all I really have. But at the same time I'm tired of pretending I've got it all figured out and am a good kid in sunday school. This is me and this is real.

wales and a traveler I passed

Thoughts on Friends that I have Known.

There are friends that I have known.
Some I knew for who they were.
Some I knew for who I wished them to be.
Some I knew deeply.
Others I knew with only a passing glance.
Some I continue to know.
Many I can no longer know.
Some were taken from me.
Some chose to leave.

Others I abandoned.

Most simply faded away.

A few remain.

Of these I call to mind a few

With whom I share some memory of sound,

Or shadows reflected in a cloudy mirror.

Memories of words spoken and of songs,

And a hope of more to come.

There are friends that I have known, and

Among them I am known.

13.10.2011