Go And Rub My Head

…And let the hurt things out.

That’s what woke me this morning:

….You know without a doubt

Go and rub my head

And let the hurt things out

The kernel of a song.  My third “good one.”  That’s how they come, in my dreams.  They wake me up, I write them down.

This one came in a gush of tears.  I grabbed my voice recorder and whispered the snatch of song along with its tune and arrangement (they all come as a fairly complete stubbed-in piece to be completed while awake), collapsed back into bed and hours later I am still crying.

Last night I was up till I couldn’t stand it any more, IM’ing with a friend back in Jerusalem.  His wife died not long ago, he’s still young, he’s got a bunch of kids…..he’s so, so lonely…..he just wants someone in his bed to keep him company and drive away the chill grey of the dawn.  Will I come back and just be his friend and warm him?  Oh, he knows I’m old and sick (he’s young enough that I am old!), but we are such good friends and…….

I know, I know….don’t worry, I am not offended.  You know that I can’t do this for you….Yes, I know.

I have acted this role for so many, many people over the years.

I have been the Temple Prostitute, the Holy Woman who heals through the balm of Sacred Sex.

How many souls seared with the pain of loss, loneliness, lost-ness, have I soothed and set back on their way, smiling and breathing, with a word of thanks and freedom in their step?

I am glad for them.  I am grateful that I have been given a role in their healing.  I watch them go, and I don’t let them see.  Don’t look back, for I am naught but a pillar of salt tears.

What about me, I ask my Creator.  What about me?  Do I get a reward here, ever?  Or do I die alone, knowing that I have helped….is that my reward?

I’m sure that my reward will come, but not in the form that I would dearly love to have.  I haven’t merited that.  Not this time around.

I am of the lineage of Dina (Deena), daughter of Leah, the thirteenth child born of the loins of Yaakov (Jacob).  I will tell you more about her in my next post, G-d willing.

But for now, this soiled dove must tuck her head under her wing and weather the cold alone.

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  1. The Grundlands

     /  January 16, 2015

    Just wanted to say that you are not alone. First, because even though it’s not the same, you’ve many whom love you dearly and hold you close… And also, because there’s so many who know just how you feel, even surrounded by people who love them. I hear you. I see you. I feel you. I love you liebela. xo

  2. You always cut right to the bone. It must be as painful for you to be under your own scrutiny
    as it is for me to be under mine. Your post reminded me of a song by Joan Baez…

    Love song to a stranger:

    • Thank you. Yes, you too are plagued by stark reality. I lurk often on your blog. Deep truth, deeply disturbing.

      Interesting the connection with Baez. I can’t open the Youtube link on my mobile but will do when I get to my puter.
      I have been listening to Laura Nyro, one of my early heroes of singing and songwriting. She also cut close to the bone. I guess that’s how it is with us who live with one foot one the other side of the veil.

    • Oh, now that I actually got to listen to the song…Sounds like Joanie was a lot more mature in her soul than I am. I have always wanted nothing but one lover forever. All of the many times I have helped someone “sweeten their night” (Leonard Cohen, “Sisters of Mercy”), they leave healed, having taken what they needed, and I smile and watch them go, then bandage what’s left of my soul and soldier on. Even knowing I’ve healed them, hearing the light in their words of thanks, the sadness follows me down the decades and the bleeding slows because there isn’t much blood left…It has all turned to tears. Some day I will dehydrate and be dust.

        • Oh yes!!! Great performance!

          • Straight from the gut, no filters, died young….

            • Yes…a bright light without the internal structure to support the pressure of fame…Not unlike Amy Winehouse.

              • Oh Rob, you have “dimed it,” as my former railroad track-worker husband used to say…that means, when you’re driving spikes with a 1″ head maul (long-handled hammer), if you’re good enough, the bright impression of the strikes on the head of the spike are no bigger than a dime…so if you’ve “hit the nail on the head,” that translates, in railroad parlance, to “you’ve dimed it.” You’ve dimed it. Amy was my quintessential tragic hero. She didn’t have, as you say, the internal framework to handle the musician’s precarious life. Huge talent with no place to go, untreated life-threatening mental illness…once she came to Israel while I was living there to get this novel treatment where they kept her anesthetized for a month, to painlessly detox, and as soon as she woke up she was back shooting heroine…..I just wanted to hold that trashed little girl in my arms and rock her……her parents were SO concerned about her…..what had they done to her, when she was that little girl who never could get enough traction in her innards to grow up? Whenever her name comes up everyone says, “Oh such talent, what a waste.” Fuck that shit! What a beautiful soul, trashed by every possible sort of abuse. That’s what I saw in Amy. To paraphrase Frida, may she rest in peace, and never come back…..unless it is to a life of the love and respect she deserved.

                • I think that in many instances the trashing that you describe is really a class issue.

                  Perhaps the most unusual aspect of the “Baby Boomers” was the almost universal access to higher education that they enjoyed.

                  The result was an abundance of talented men and women from the working class who entered the arts. But the structure of public education for the working class was still largely focused on “getting a job”.

                  Not a career, but a job.

                  Many talented people achieved enormous wealth and fame as musicians, photographers and writers–especially in music and film, but they has not been “taught” to use the leisure time that money buys. This is a skill.

                  The most concise description of the destructive combination of great wealth without the sense of class entitlement that attends the wealth of the aristocracy was described by John Lennon in the song “Working Class Hero”.

                  Everyone loves to remember “Imagine”, which will always remain a gorgeous ode to wishful thinking.

                  The real truth of what Lennon discovered about the class system in the U.S. and the UK is in “Working Class Hero” and in “God” from the ‘Plastic Ono Album”.

                  Consider the fact that we have politicians in the U.S. who are maneuvering to cut social security disability payments by 20 percent next year.

                  It seems that so-called conservatives suspect that the wrong people are “gaming” their system. But for what? The average disability payment is under a thousand dollars a month.

                  This means that these class-bigots think that disabled men and women are gaming Social Security to
                  live in squalor.

                  Never mind that the system is paid into by either their work or the work of other members of their class and that this is public money which was initially set aside to protect the people from the poverty to which it now reduces them thanks to over thirty years of cuts.

                  Now these ideologues want to reduce an average payment of a thousand dollars a month to 800 a month.

                  The thing about these debates that I find shocking is not the further brutality that it would impose on disabled people.

                  We in the U.S. have been brutalizing the poor and disabled for over thirty years.

                  The thing that truly shocks is that they discuss our lives is if they owned us, as if they have the right to do with us as they please, as if it is their “right” by “entitlement” to consign us and our children to misery and death by poverty.

                  If they were targeting an “ethnic” group for this kind of treatment the outrage would be palpable, but by targeting a “class” they achieve the same goal without having to reveal the underlying racism.

                  There are times when the poison of our national and international hypocrisy makes me feel physically ill.

                  The fact that most of these callous policies are the result of the politics of a generation that gained the most from the public services that they have so assiduously dismantled
                  only makes the hypocrisy more sickening.

                  “And you think you’re so clever and classless and free
                  But you’re still fucking peasants as far as I can see”

                  John Lennon, “Working Class Hero

      • Baez was in her early thirties when she made the “Diamonds and Rust: album and to listen to the songs is to feel that she had survived two lifetimes. “Love song to a Stranger” Joni Mitchell and Joan Baez released albums a year apart that discussed the “one night stand” from a woman’s perspective.

        I find the Baez song world weary and bitter.

        The Joni Mitchell song is on the “Court and Spark” album. It seems more haunted by her faith which is a constant theme in her work:

        “Clutching the night to you like a fig leaf
        You hurry
        To the blackness
        And the blankets
        To lay down an impression
        And your loneliness”

  3. I completely feel you here, Laura… I wish I could hug you but I can’t, so at least know that you’re never alone.

  4. I just read go rub your head, I’ve been at this thing for very long time from anxiety to depression,to panic, and everything in the middle, what a post, after all I have been through I am just beginning to share all of it, it has been a blessing and a curse, it’s such a balance act, I can’t begin to say, I really love how you use disclaimers, something I’ve yet to use, I was really more by this post and your honesty. Asking what about me, I will be back to visit
    As always Sheldon

    • Hi Sheldon, I am touched by what you wrote. We are all swimming around in these muddy waters together. It’s good when like minds cross paths–I almost wrote “collide”–I guess my brain still hurts. I sure hope things settle down for both of us, and for all of us who are plagued by demons. It’s good that you’re starting to share. Our “mental illness” corner of the blogosphere is a very comfortable and comforting place to be. I’m going to hop over to your blog now and see what’s cooking over there! Here’s to feeling better…Laura


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