There's a supermax prison in my head for all the disturbing things. Every fear, every worry, all that awful stuff in the rear view mirror, every intrusive thought that creeps in when I should be enjoying the moment. I lock them up tight, stack the keys on a high shelf, and do my best to focus on what matters.
I love Leonard Cohen. I'm listening to a live concert of his in London as I write this. "There's a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in." And I think there's something to that... acknowledging that the walls aren’t perfectly sealed, that some thoughts slip through. But even if the prison isn’t escape-proof, my boys are the light flooding through those cracks. Oh god are they.
Raising them with Eri is the best part of my life up to this point. It’s chaotic, totally exhausting, and fairly often ridiculous, but it’s also the purest, most honest joy I know. When they laugh, when they fight, when they ask endless impossible questions or snuggle up next to me with a book or even wake me up in the morning by putting their butt in my face and farting (Osamuuuuuu!), the world makes sense. In those moments, the prison fades into the background, the locks loosen, and I remember that love, not fear, is what lasts.
And if Mr. Cohen was right, if everything has a crack, then maybe it’s because some things aren’t meant to be locked away forever.
Comments
Post a Comment