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Falling in the Fall

fallmapl

We started this Sunday off with a lively jazz rendition of ‘Autumn Leaves’, and we shall close it with this slow-burn wind-down of the amazing Lizz Wright and her rendition of ‘When I Fall’. After all, it is, well, fall – and this is the perfect song for ending a simple, quiet weekend at home. A final few moments of relaxation, and letting go. I need to learn to do that better.

I invite you to pull up a chair, or lean back on the couch, play this music, and unwind with me. There is solace in company, especially when a song like this is playing. (Or one like this.)

I want to be wild and bold enough to run with you, my baby,
I want to skip time, lay the hours aside and stay with you, my baby,
But oh if I look down now, tell me, will I fall?
And what if the water’s cold when I fall?
I want to be still, and quietly say I’ll lay with you, my baby
I wish I were brave and sure today, to pray that it’s you, my baby
But oh if I look down now, tell me, will I fall?
And what if the water’s cold when I fall?

Until I met Andy, I had a habit of falling in love in the fall. Somehow, without fail, that’s when it usually happened. It was as if after a summer of building myself up, I let my guard down for a moment, and by October the deed was done, and the die had been cast. Often, these feelings were not returned, and had they been I honestly don’t know what I would have done. For the time, it was enough just to have the chase, the longing, the need ~ and without a result I just ended up trying harder.

If you don’t know that yearning, consider yourself lucky. It’s not something that has ever come to good, save a few phrases I wrote that still touch my heart but will not be repeated here. See, if you love and love and get nothing in return, there is something that dies in you. You can’t help but lose a bit of yourself. Some think it noble, some think it madness, some think nothing of it at all (those are the ones that hurt the most) – but I wouldn’t take any of it back, nor do any of it differently. I would fall time and time again, willingly, happily, honestly, and not regret one of those times. Even the painful ones. Especially the painful ones.

The water may be cold, but it’s proof that you’re alive. That you are here. That you still feel something.

Don’t be afraid to fall.

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