2. The Madness of the Spinning World
There’s a song by The Weepies called World Spins Madly On. I listen to it when I want to remember, celebrate and be grateful for how beautiful we are in all our chaos.
This is one of those nights I ace my Humpty Dumpty act.
I’m scattered over so many thoughts and lengths, it’s discouraging to even try to get myself together. Puzzled, I rest.
In my pause, I blink to grasp that no matter how together or separate I am from myself, the world spins madly on. Whether I race or snail my way into a context, the world spins madly on. And, even if I scream or silence myself in protest, still… the world spins madly on.
And I could do nothing about it. Not one thing.
In despair, I begged it to stop. It wouldn’t. Defiant, stupid world.
They won’t remember you, mom. But… I will.
(In a way, I’m doing it right now. Trying to make you listen and pay attention. As much as I don’t like it, I still feel responsible to tell people about a life they never knew… Does The World keep some sort of record of the ones that had been? I wonder… Will I find them there, if I loo k— the ones I’ve lost? Besides the voids we become, who ever remembers we used to spin together?)
At first, I got mad. Served me no good. Then, at one point, I think I… went mad. Served me even less. Raised up, dusted off, and… off I went into the mad world.
Still puzzled, I tried living as if I were her for a while.
A couple of years ago, though, I decided it was time to let the World Spin Madly On its own.
Easier said than done.
I figured quite soon that I’d have to face some unusual skeletons. Most probably I’d need to demount and rebuild years of unquestionings. Or face “irrational” fears I didn’t even know existed in me. Some nights, the pain would get the best of me.
This is one of those nights.
I kept the heaviness safe, within me, for years. I grew with it and it with me. I fed it with life and it intoxicated me with weary emotions. My young self confused mechanical responsiveness with actual feelings. Misery soon became the one and only proof that life had once existed.
Isn’t it ironic — agony validating life?! Dispiteful to the least! My most precious learning, though, was that we need to MADLY (out)live our agonies.
Light validates darkness just as much as the other way around.
Some nights, I still have aches I don’t recognize. And sorrows I’m ashamed to assume. Let alone make public.
This is one of those nights. And still, all these years later…
The World Spins Madly On.
Only now, I can do something about it. One thing.
I spin with madness.
In my own rhythm. And my own direction. Imploding with my own light.
Sometimes, I’m too slow. Some other times I’m upside down. Most of the times, my groove is just off any kind of beat. But… then I remember The Madness of the Spinning World — that beautiful chaos we’re made of. And the amazing nonsense we dive into head-on. The one we call meaning. Or purpose. And those endless mazes we name journies which model us like dough.
For that maddness, I keep on spinning.
My way… In my own rhythm… And my own direction… Imploding with my own light.
P.S.: What I’ve italic-ed are, most probably, lyrics from the song.
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