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Have you ever liked a song so much that you listen to it a gazillion times and you think you have the song all figured out, then years pass and you grow out of that song and move on to other songs until one day you hear the same old song again, but suddenly something in that old, tricky song has shifted and a whole new world of meaning opens?
Of course, it’s the listener that’s changed, not the song, right? Hmmmm…or is it?
No man ever steps into the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.
–Heraclitus
Or perhaps it’s the zeitgeist that changed. On a grand scale, I think this happened in the collective consciousness with the song, “Baby It’s Cold Outside” on the wake of the “Me Too Movement.” What seems like the innocent flirtation of one era turns into nefarious intent in another era.
Recently I experienced a song’s shift (in a good way) when I heard Madonna’s “Vogue.” ‘What just happened here? ‘ I wondered to myself after hearing the song with these 2020 ears. There was a lot more depth there than I remembered there being in 1990 when I first heard it. (Can y’all believe that song is 30 years old now?!) I had to go look up the lyrics and then the etymology of the word “vogue” to discover that in addition to the “fashion forward” meaning of the word, it’s also a boating term indicating the “drift, swaying motion (of a boat).” It’s from Old French voguer, meaning “to row, sway, set sail.” [according to vogue | Search Online Etymology Dictionary (etymonline.com)]
So this week in my classes we are going on a sailing adventure.
All you need is your own imagination
So use it that’s what it’s for
Go inside for your finest inspiration
Your dreams will open the door
-Shep Pettibone & Madonna/Vogue
“By opening the door to the shadow realm a little, and letting out various elements a few at a time, relating to them, finding use for them, negotiating, we can reduce being surprised by shadow sneak attacks and unexpected explosions.”
Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Women Who Run with the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype
On a sleepless night earlier this week, I used the gift of extra time and energy to do some reading that has been neglected on my nightstand for far too long. Since then, a particular passage in the book The Subway Chronicles: More Scenes from Life in New York, has been tapping at my mental chamber door all week. Author Jacquelin Cangro, recounted a scene that unfolded during her subway commute: a little girl got onboard the train with her father and soon after erupted into a spontaneous twirling dance accompanied only by the music inside her own mind. The author watched with amusement tinged by a wistful yearning for the sort freedom of expression that comes with being four years old.
I sympathize with the author — oh to be free from the trappings of adulthood — from the notions of decency and decorum, from responsibility and respectability, from the ‘shoulds’ and ‘Thou Shalt Nots,’ from the veils and gilded cages.
A tiny dancer still lives inside of these subways, chambers, shadows, and longings…
If we cracked the door open just a little bit, what would we see…?
