Forgotten Songs

After munching on some mediocre thin crust delivery pizza, Sarahbina and I unwound from the week by listening to excerpts from her greatest hits/live recordings of Dan Fogelberg, Jim Croce, Fleetwood Mac, Pat Benetar, and John Denver. I remembered again, how I was the weird kid in sixth grade who listened to the easy listening station almost exclusively, who cried in her room while she mouthed the words to Barbra Streisand's "Evergreen." There were so many memories tied up for me in those lyrics. Like the sense of smell, memories of songs can put you sqaurely back in time, to the precise experiences that make the songs so meaningful.

A Common Phenomenon

As a kid when I was sick enough to go to the doctor, a strange thing would always happen when we got to my pediatrician's office. I always felt better and my symptoms would seem to go into hiding. My energy would return to me, the fever would break, or I wouldn't cough that body-racking cough I'd had for days. So it is with my decision to go into counseling. I have felt fairly well-adjusted, hopeful, and positive about my self-image for the last couple of weeks or so. In the last few days I've tried to catalogue my reasons for seeking out therapy--and though I know what they are--I can't seem to list them off with any conviction at the moment.

It is because the hope of help is imminent, I think, and this gives the afflicted elements of us a new sense of will--the effort to make a showing--because there is the understanding that things will be different at some point.