 The passing of Canada’s legendary Gordon Lightfoot has had a profound effect on so many as we mourn the loss of one of our (babyboomer) generation’s musical geniuses. I have been contemplating my own personal memories of his music for a couple of days now. The power of his lyrics were undeniable but for me it was more than that - it was life changing.
My first husband was a huge fan of his music. Until I met him, I was a fan but not to the degree he was. As the few short years of our marriage played out, I grew to appreciate Lightfoot’s music more and more as his albums were often gracing our turntable on rainy weekends. It wasn’t surprising then, that I bought tickets to see him at Massey Hall in the late 80’s to see him perform live. A birthday present. It was the perfect gift…or so I thought. Long ago memories can be blurry but I have never forgotten the feeling that overcame me that night as I sat next to my then husband. If ever there was a sense of foreboding, it was the moment Lightfoot started singing “If You Could Read My Mind”. It was as though I knew months ahead what was coming. As the lyrics filled the concert hall - “I don’t know where we went wrong, but the feelings gone and I just can’t get it back.”. As much as I wanted to deny what my intuition was telling me, I knew our marriage was on it’s last legs. As we both sat listening to that song, this gigantic elephant in the room was sitting on both our hearts and when the concert was over, the walk to the car was silent. We didn’t talk about the show. It was as though we were both afraid to talk lest the words neither of us needed or wanted to say were ready to leave our lips. It wasn’t the right moment. It was raining. It was a late October night in Toronto - cold and wet - a foreshadowing of the months to come as our marriage unraveled week by week. I wonder how many broken hearts have been made feel unrepairable as they listened to that song? The enormous angst associated with those lyrics is immeasurable. Isn’t that what all great art can do? It just knocks you over with a feather. Did Gord write those lyrics with someone in mind in his own life? Turns out, he had. It was one of his most personal songs written about his failing first marriage. All I know is that I cannot hear that song all these years later without thinking of my own first failed marriage, a memory as ancient as those old albums we played on that turntable. Did his heart ache every time he performed it? How could it not? My life is filled with memories and the songs that accompanied them. A similar scenario occurred toward the end of my second marriage. Different artist. Different song. This time it was a road trip to South Carolina. The song was on a mixed tape I had made for the drive. (remember those?) This time was different in that I was the one that had “lost the feeling”. As Nelly Furtado’s voice filled the car, I could feel tears welling up. I had to look out the passenger window, my head turned so he couldn’t see my obvious distress. “Now our love’s floating out the window, our love’s floating out the back door.” I glanced over at him to see if the lyrics were registering with him at all but it seemed I was the only one who was relating to the song. This time it was me who would do the leaving. It didn’t make it any easier. I guess this is not so much a tribute to Gordon Lightfoot as it is a proclamation about the power of music and well written lyrics to imprint memories on our hearts and minds that stand the test of time and become ingrained into the fabric of who we are and where we came from and how our lives have unfolded individually and collectively for millennia. As for me, and my path to the here and now, let’s just say I am glad to report that Mick and I consider “At Last” to be “our song”. I am hopeful “Third time’s the charm.” AT LAST - written by Mack Gordon and Harry Warren At last My love has come along My lonely days are over And life is like a song Oh yeah yeah At last The skies above are blue My heart was wrapped up in clover The night I looked at you I found a dream, that I could speak to A dream that I can call my own I found a thrill to press my cheek to A thrill that I have never known Oh yeah yeah You smiled, you smiled Oh and then the spell was cast And here we are in heaven For you are mine... At Last
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 We do it to ourselves really, don't we? Just when you think you have achieved or perfected something and are happy with the method used or the result, you take the bait. You see the headline or the tag line and instead of just continuing to scroll you click on it.
The dreaded click. After all, why wouldn't you want to strike a better yoga pose, or bake a better cake or take a better photograph, or have a more mind-blowing orgasm, or be a better parent, or get more from your meditation practice, or have the most organized closet...or, or, or. These are the continuous subliminal messages that flog us daily. Clearly the way you are doing it is not good enough. It's not fast enough or slow enough, or intense enough or tasty enough. It applies to our work, our relationships, our hobbies, our cooking, our possessions, our homes, our travel destinations, our skill at just about anything. Let's face it, none of us are good enough at anything. There is always a better way. As much as I can see through these admonishments intellectually, there is still a latent curiosity to have a quick peak to see if maybe, just maybe I could change things up a bit to improve upon what I already thought was pretty good. It is almost as though you need to see if the difference between how you do it already and how someone else does it is just a matter of a quick and easy tweak that will elevate whatever it is to some sort of Nirvana. Not content with a simple bowl of hot oatmeal with cream and brown sugar like your mom always made you, no worries, make it like this and turn your morning bowl of gruel into a foodgasm. It diminishes your reality. That's what it does. Just when you think you have found the perfect little black dress, the September issue of Vogue poo poo's your choice. Think you have a wonderful loving and harmonious relationship? Look there - Sting and Trudie Styler practice Tantric sex and have the perfect house to boot! It's enough to make you stop the madness and just unplug altogether. Turn off the devices and put an end to the constant reminders that you can and should be and do better. The truth is, we can always improve because none of us are perfect. But do we really need to bother? And what is it that drives us to try? Why is perfection a goal at all, because even those who seem to achieve it in some area of their life often find it does not make them happy. The list of celebrities that we have at one time or another viewed as having achieved the perfect lives and then blew it all up in some way is endless. Think Robin Williams for instance, whose tragic departure from our world almost a year ago still saddens and perplexes us. So talented. So loved. So fortunate. So dead. I had my own interesting discovery last week. My first boyfriend and first love who I had, until last week, thought had it all - or so it seemed. I knew he had married the girl who came into his life after me, they had financial success, three children who were privileged to attend the best schools, a nice home and a summer cottage. I was happy for him. It seemed he had the happily ever after we all want. As I scrolled my Facebook feed I noticed a woman with a hyphenated name - hers and his. Hmmm, that was odd. I dug a little further and sure enough it turned out his perfect marriage ended some time around 2007. Sigh. One more fairy tale life bites the dust. It does seem that they have both gone on to re-marry and give it another go - maybe this time they will find that elusive perfect relationship. Maybe not. The key for them and for all of us really may be to not expect perfection. Just wake up each morning and be grateful for how it is, and how they are and be thankful to be alive and perfectly imperfect. As much as I have come to find Dr. Phil annoying, he did have a couple of great ideas when it came to relationships. One thing he used to say that I have never forgotten had something to do with asking yourself "What can I do to make my partner's life easier today?". The other thing he used to say was "How much fun are you to live with?" I think those two simple ideas are really effective. It prompts giving and introspection. And those two activities alone could be enough to achieve happily ever after as long as both partners participate. And on that note, I am going to the kitchen to make a pot of soup. Not the most mind-blowing, foodgasmic, gourmet's dream crock of hot nectar of the gods. Just a simple, nutritious, tasty pot of goodness, the way I have made it many times before. A "clean out the crisper" soup that will be less than perfect, but more than adequate. A "good enough" soup. Good enough for me. |
DEBunked.I see nature as a metaphor for life. Please join me on this journey down the garden path as I explore life through story - a shovel in one hand and a camera in the other. Archives
May 2023
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