Legal Commentary

And I?m finding my rhythm, As I twist in the snow

By Kevin Funnell

One good reason to have a blog that no one reads is that it allows you the opportunity to say things you wouldn't otherwise say, to express thoughts that, upon serious reflection or a little less fruit of the vine, you might have left unsaid. Someday, entirely by accident, someone may stumble across the words and say to themselves, "I get this." An unseen and serendipitous connection: the finest kind.

Lately, I've been fighting the black dog, and it's decided to open a gambit it rarely attempts: invading my dreams. The working days seem never to end, the land of nod consumed with the same feverish nightmares as the days, things of this earth that turn to ashes. Yet ash-making is what we're primed for, isn't it? It's what we've been swathed in, by every fiber of this rancid, secular blanket that has covered us and been pulled up to our chinny chin chins since the day we were born. Hamster-like, we can't escape the wheel.

There are moments, though. Moments that give me hope. Moments when I recall a certain woman's laugh, or the way she first told me that I was the moon and she the sea and that I pulled her constantly, with an eternal ebb and flow, shortly before I cut out her heart or she cut out mine, or both. Moments when, without warning or conscious cause, the last thirty seconds of a wrestling match of 45 years ago flash through my mind, the outside switch is thrown, the opponent's shoulder caves, the whistle blows, my arm is lifted, the hometown crowd roars.  The moment I left my brother for the last time and his eyes told me that he was done. Moments when the chaff of life blows away and all you see is wheat.

Cut me in quadrants
Leave me in the corner
Oh now it?s passing
Oh now I?m dancing

Full post as published by Counseling Kevin on July 17, 2010 (boomark / email).