Ball and Chain

It's amazing, all the things you've said about us
It's amazing, and true.
And it's amazing that I can still sing this song so simply about you.
Because, after all, it is just one of those things.


I remember the snapping feeling and the flood of understanding. I remember the bitter and cynical power it afforded me, the power to look back and scorn my own actions and yours. For a few days, I stayed that way, confident that this was the new me and that I'd finally struggled off of the plateau I'd been bogged down on for so long.

And all it took was one song and one sermon to shake me, one song and one sermon to call attention to the beautiful flaw in my reasoning: I am not that person. I am not that cold, I am not that harsh.

If you are like me, admitting that you were mistaken is no easy task. I admit that I fight against it at times, struggling to retain some sense of right even if I'm proven wrong. And so I struggled against myself, saying that I was reverting and I couldn't go back to this. But the seed was planted, and I couldn't ignore what grew from it.

I realized this: anybody can be a cynic. Anybody can harden themselves to others and scoff at cliched and gooey memories, thoughts, and actions. Anybody can criticize, anybody can hurt. There's no challenge in that for many of us.

The challenge lies instead in knowing our mistakes and accepting ourselves and each other anyway. The challenge comes in letting go without burning what's behind you. The challenge is not to hurt, but to heal.


"You are afraid you might forget, but you never will. You will forgive and remember. Think of the vine that curls from the small square plot that was once my heart. That is the only marker you need. Move on. Walk on into the light."

Because, after all, it is just one of those things.