Photo by Betchie (can’t find link)
I put together a musical series over the weekend, ten songs that mirror my spiritual journey the past twenty years or so. It’s something my writing teacher wrote about in this post about writing her memoir with music in mind and how the hymns (which are her chapter titles) were always the “common ground” between her family members. While they differed on many things, the music always brought them back together, their voices raised in unison.
I thought it was such a beautiful picture, I went searching for ten songs (hard to narrow them down!) that described my journey, which will someday be my memoir.
The first is Imogen Heap’s “Hide and Seek” from her Speak for Yourself album. Why did I choose this song to describe the confusion of the fundamentalism years?
where are we?
what the hell is going on?
the dust has only just begun to form
crop circles in the carpet
sinking feeling
spin me round again
and rub my eyes,
this can’t be happening
when busy streets a mess with people
would stop to hold their heads heavy
hide and seek
trains and sewing machines
all those years
they were here first
oily marks appear on walls
where pleasure moments hung before the takeover,
the sweeping insensitivity of this still life
Mmmm whatcha say,
Mmm that you only meant well?
well of course you did
Mmmm whatcha say,
Mmmm that it’s all for the best?
of course it is
Mmmm whatcha say?
Mmmm that it’s just what we need
you decided this
whatcha say?
Mmmm what did she say?
ransom notes keep falling out your mouth
mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs
speak no feeling no I don’t believe you
you don’t care a bit,
you don’t care a bit
Because I’m not going to throw stones on this blog or in any of my writing, and this song puts to words what it was like to have a vibrant faith in God that was quietly and rapidly polluted by man-made beliefs that were absolutely false and ill-conceived. And when I expressed any concerns during my year in Indy, I was told to be quiet. So I went to home to hide. Although the leadership of this cult left me alone for many ensuing years, God did not. He pursued me, much like the words of this Francis Thompson poem:
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the midst of tears
I hid from Him, and under running laughter.
Up vistaed sloped I sped
And shot, precipitated
Adown Titanic glooms or chasmed fears,
From those strong feet that followed, followed after.
If you’d like to hear Imogen Heap’s amazing song, listen here:
{ 2 comments }
I love this, Trish. When I wrote a novel a few years ago, I used lyrics to songs at the start of each chapter. The novel has been on a shelf for 3 years, but I might do this process again as I’m working on my menu. Kind of a “musical story board.” Thanks for sharing this.
I can’t take the credit. My teacher did it with genius results, but this really is a great way to organize yourself and write according to the music, especially when it gets too heavy.
There’s more to come!
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