wild horses

I found a web site recently that had a litany of u-tube versions of the song "wild horses". Interestingly, to my way of thinking, was the role played by the musical instruments in most of the versions. The guitar was, of course, the overwhelming accompaniment. In my judgment, most versions of the song, provided a platform for displaying the skill of the person(s) playing the guitar i.e. , Guns and Roses, Dave Matthews, and of course, the Rolling Stones. For me, personally, a particular fragment of the song's lyrics is what reaches to my soul in an interesting sort of way. The Susan Boyle rendition, in particular, puts me in an strange but comfortable place. Her phrasing of, "wild horses couldn't drag me away", transports me to a mood ~ a mind-place. It's not the force of the wild horses dragging me away from love that affects me it's the alone-ness of the wild horses as an alternative to love that affects me. I have to fight the urge to go away with the horses. Over whelming melancholy over comes me. I want to go away to the place from where the wild horses come, but it is OK. Wild horses could drag me away and its not only OK, but what I want. I want to go to whence they came.

Now you have to remember that I was the guy who as a teenager would become melancholy while hiking to my favorite over night fishing camp on Mystic Lake because I knew that I would have to eventually leave the site to go home and I would be sad. My friend Elmer, on the way up the trail, would say, "God damn it Skip, wait until its time to be sad! Enjoy now." I was blessed with friends that would talk to me and in a compassionate sort of way understand and accept me. That was back when we didn't know what "compassionate" was. That's just what friends did.

As I have grown older and have spent time in analyzing the idea of depression and mood swings, I have, I believe, become more accepting of myself and of those around me. ~ most certainly of the depression of my mother and her mother. Cancer and depression does that to a guy. You are forced to recognize the gifts that we are offered in life. They are, ironically, gifts. These life experiences have forced me to think and to accept. I have read that creative people, authors in particular, refuse drugs for depression believing that it is within the depths of those dark places that they are the most creative. I understand what they are saying. The key is to become comfortable with the "place" and with "who you are". I have learned that we can only hope to become "more comfortable". Enjoy the journey of learning.

Wild horses could drag me away. And, I would be OK with that.

Gordon, et. al.