I can’t run no more
with that lawless crowd
while the killers in high places
say their prayers out loud.
But they’ve summoned, they’ve summoned up
and they’re going to hear from me.
You can add up the parts
but you won’t have the sum
You can strike up the march,
there is no drum
Every heart, every heart
to love will come
but like a refugee.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.
Anuna linked to this wonderful video in a different thread, but I thought it deserved its own post. She wrote:
I know what both of you mean, Arietty and Heart, about sometimes feeling wistful. For me, it’s especially so at this time. I thought I’d share this song with you–kind of different from the one [in the other post]. It’s Julie Christensen and Perla Batalla singing Leonard Cohen’s “Anthem.” I just thought these ladies were so great.
I’ve been reading a good book about healing from abusive relationships. The author makes the point that the idea that things will be “better” after we leave abusive relationships is really a myth. We aren’t being abused anymore, it’s true, and that’s a relief. There are things to look forward to and be happy about. But the fact remains that we have also lost many things and there is so much to grieve. We lost our dreams, our hopes, our plans. We lost our confidante or confidantes, in the case of a community. We lost our lover and companion. We lost our sexual or spiritual innocence, not innocence in the sense of inexperience, but in the sense of having lost our sense of ourselves as sexually or spiritually whole women. Our abusive husbands took control of our bodies or of our sex lives with them — what our sex lives would or wouldn’t be, would or wouldn’t include — and in so doing, took our sexuality away from us. Our abusive communities took control of our spirituality and took that away from us. We lost our roommates, our friends, the people we talked with about our problems, daily activities, kids. relationships, the news, politics. We may have lost our possessions, our dreams for our own lives and for our children’s lives. We had thought we’d be and have our families always or our communities always and with them, stability, history, continuity, a shared future. We lost that. It’s gone now. We lost our shared traditions and memories. We lost our opportunity to say all the things to our partner or our community that we wanted to say and that will now remain unsaid, many, many things. We couldn’t say these things while we were in our relationship or in our community because it wasn’t safe to or we might have been abused for it or because we knew what we said would fall on deaf ears; our partner or community didn’t care, didn’t want to hear about it. These are significant losses and are to be mourned. There’s no other way through. It’s really, really hard at times; as you say, at times of the year like now, anuna.
This song is so perfect; the loss and the hope, the disappointment and determination, the fierceness and the grief are all wrapped together and entangled. That’s exactly the way it is for us, isn’t it?