Round Here

‘Round here, we always stand up straight

‘Round here, something radiates

Those lines are from a song by Counting Crows that was released in 1993. I have a memory of my daughter, who was all of six years old, transcribing the lyrics in her fledgling handwriting with its invented spelling and mysterious adornments, future writer that she was, and I never understood why this particular song had captured her fancy, but I was charmed. Now, more than thirty years later, the song, or at least that particular refrain, has reappeared inside my head, where it is playing repeatedly, and it seems to fit the time and place.

I am buoyed by recent events, by last week’s Democratic convention, by the energy and sense of hope. I know there will be twists and turns on the road ahead––the foe is unscrupulous––but I am newly infused with determination and a vision of what might be if everything turns out for the best.

And sometimes it does. (I guess that’s called faith.)

Once I had a dream in which I was walking through a spinning vortex, strewn with stars and flecks of dust. No landmarks or parameters were visible, and navigation was based on blind faith. But I moved along, exhilarated, not afraid. Sometimes I held the hands of others, helping and being helped. Sometimes I was a lone pilgrim, and sometimes not a separate form at all but simply part of the cosmos. I don’t have the words to explain this dream. Even as I try, my words are shrinking it.

But I feel a little like that now. The hills are shining, and wonders abound. There are good people around, and we are walking tall and standing straight.

Something radiates.