The further I go

by tamarjacobson

Quote of the day:

As I row, row, row
Going so slow, slow, slow
Just down below me is the old sea
Just down below me is the old sea
Nobody knows, knows, knows
So many things, things, so
So out of range
Sometimes so strange
Sometimes so sweet
Sometimes so lonely

The further I go
More letters from home never arrive
And I’m alone
All of the way
All of the way
Alone and alive

You just have to go, go, go
Where I don’t know, know, know
This is the thing
Somebody told me
A long time ago

The further I go
More letters from home never arrive
And I’m alone
All of the way
All of the way
Alone and alive

(Rowing Song, Patti Griffin)

The rain has turned to a mist over the Wissahickon Creek woods. Ada calls me to play in the next room. I sit down to write a post to the haunting sounds of Patti Griffin. Anya first introduced me to her in the summer last year when she created a CD of various and sundry music she thought I would enjoy, including some magnificent African pieces. And then Gilad sent me Impossible Dream for Christmas. I can hear some of you chuckling to think I have only learned about Patti Griffin so recently. But it is never too late.

The Rowing Song speaks to me. For the further I go into my personal shiva it becomes a bit lighter somehow. Just as after taking awhile to make a decision, the choice is finally made, and there is a big, welcoming sense of relief. I start to realize feelings of joy at choosing to become an adult. Am smiling and happy while I water the plants, and have been playing the piano and singing again.

The further I go
More letters from home never arrive
And I’m alone
All of the way
All of the way
Alone and alive

Yes indeed. In fact, the letters from home have been arriving less and less in more ways than I care to describe, and I become more and more alive. I am singing along now. I will definitely want to learn to play this one, and sing it with all my heart.

A year ago at Tamarika: Talking about freedom