My life has just gotten so strange, gang. But not in a bad way.
It stems mostly from joy. So much beautiful stuff in my world right now, but the “weird” part is that I had to get old before any of this could happen.
Well, most of it.
This first thing has nothing to do with age — the Agency texted to say that my favorite client, the woman who is now back from Florida and who has all those Theology Degrees from Yale Divinity School, has an open shift for today and did I want it?
Yes!! Thank you!!
So, even though it’s my day off, and even though I will also be seeing her on Thursday, I was more than happy to get started seeing her again as soon as possible.
So I’m spending the afternoon with her today, for the first time in 8 months. She has physical issues, obviously, or she wouldn’t need a caregiver round-the-clock, but it’s her mind that I really, really love. So we will soon see how it goes!
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Okay!
It is, of course, the novel-in-progress that is primarily consuming my life right now. And after working on it yesterday (The Curse of Our Profound Disorder) I realized two important things:
- I absolutely could not have written this novel if I had started it today because I wouldn’t have had any clear memories of most of the stuff that is the crux of this book.
- I couldn’t have COMPLETED the novel 26 years ago — when I first began writing it. Because I needed to get this far in life to be able to stand back and discern how it needs to end.
And since I believe both of those statements to be true, it makes me wonder “who” is really behind this novel? Me? A younger me? An older me? A “me” that’s set apart from anything physical that ages at all?
It’s a really profound feeling, whatever it’s pointing to. And in a way, it almost feels like I was in a whole other realm of existence these last 26 years, and now I’ve suddenly “come back”.
Whatever is going on here, it is a really beautiful thing. It gives me a chance to look at my entire life in a different way.
And, oddly enough, there is an undercurrent to the novel that is similar to “The Guide to Being Fabulous.” Even though, that play, is the story of Sandra’s life, not mine.
I can’t really put my finger on it yet, but there is just something really beautiful going on here, creatively, with both of these intense projects, after all these years, landing on my plate again at once.
[There is a new excerpt from The Curse of Our Profound Disorder on my substack page today, if you are interested. Mature readers only.]
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Nick Cave sent out a really beautiful Red Hand File this morning. He answers a few different questions this time, but all of them address that quality of being human in some way. I really loved it. It’s hard to really quote from it without reposting the entire thing! But here’s this:
“…Certain music has the ability, at least temporarily, to fill that void, making us feel whole and less abandoned. We feel complete when we listen to music we love, while being guided towards the goodness of things…”
You can read it in full HERE.
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Okay. That’s really it for now. I want to get a few things done before heading out to my client.
I hope you enjoy your Monday, wherever you are in the world!!
Thanks for visiting.
I love you guys, See ya!
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After posting that video yesterday of Joan Baez singing the Steve Earle song, “Jerusalem”, it reminded me of how much I used to love Steve Earle’s music!! I used to play his CDs all the time in NYC!!
I am conflicted, though! Which one to post here??? So I will probably post a few of them this coming week.
For now — “The Devil’s Right Hand”, from the album Copperhead Road, 1988. How many times have I played this song in my wee bonny lifetime??? I have no clue!! What a great song.
Enjoy, gang!!
“The Devil’s Right Hand”
‘Bout the time my daddy left to fight the big war
I saw my first pistol in a general store
In a general store, when I was 13
Thought it was the finest thing I ever had seen
Asked if I could have one someday, when I grew up
Mama dropped a dozen eggs, she really blew up
She really blew up, I didn’t understand
Mama said, “The pistol is the devil’s right hand”
The devil’s right hand, the devil’s right hand
Mama said, “The pistol is the devil’s right hand”
My very first pistol was a cap and ball Colt
Shoot as fast as lightnin’, but she loads a mite slow
Loads a mite slow as I soon found out
It can get you into trouble, but it can’t get you out
So then I went and bought myself a Colt 45
Called a Peacemaker, but I never knew why
Never knew why, I didn’t understand
Mama said, “The pistol is the devil’s right hand”
The devil’s right hand, the devil’s right hand
Mama said, “The pistol is the devil’s right hand”
The devil’s right hand, the devil’s right hand
Mama said, “The pistol is the devil’s right hand”
Well, I got into a card game, in a company town
Caught a miner cheating, I shot the dog down
Shot the dog down, I watched the man fall
Never touched his holster, never had a chance to draw
My trial was in the morning, and they dragged me out of bed
Asked me how I pleaded, “Not guilty, ” I said
“Not guilty, ” I said, “You’ve got the wrong man”
Nothing touched the trigger but the devil’s right hand
The devil’s right hand, the devil’s right hand
Mama said, “The pistol is the devil’s right hand”
The devil’s right hand, the devil’s right hand
Nothing touched the trigger but the devil’s right hand
My mama said, “The pistol is the devil’s right hand”
c – 1983- Stephen F. Earle
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