Mab of Dream

I've had a compilation tape on repeat in my car for the past three months. It would have been four, but FT Kate nicked it and held it hostage until Glastonbury, so I wouldn't get too used to it.

I don't really listen to music that closely. It's background noise and I only pay attention when it occurs to me to do so. I can listen to the same song on repeat for hours on end and only really hear it a couple of times, which I know would do my music-loving friends heads in.

Anyway, I cried to some of the songs on it on Sunday, as I drove home from Brierley Hill with the Mike situation hitting me. 'It's crazy what we could have had...' sticks out in my head as a particularly sad lyric that day. I only put the tape back on again yesterday, as I'd been driving in silence, and listened to 'A Girl Called Johnny' followed by 'Country Feedback'. That worked.

This morning, I took the tape out and fished at random for another tape. There's everything from Mussorksky to Eminiem in there. It turned out to be another compilation, which I haven't heard in a good three or four years. I listened to Republica's 'Drop Dead Gorgeous' and smiled, but started tuning out to live inside my head again.

Suddenly there was a note. It was 'Shine on you Crazy Diamond' and took me by surprise, in that I wasn't expecting it to come on. I paid attention, as I hadn't yesterday. I listened to what was being said in the music and the lyrics. I sat in my car on the work carpark until it was finished.

Ok. Got it on the level they were perhaps wanting me to get it. I paid attention.

Came into work and there are e-mails from the usual beloved suspects. A couple of them are commenting either on my blog from yesterday about 'Shine on...' or else an -e-mail from yesterday, where I waffled about the tune to a few friends. Brutal honesty out there. They're worried.

I've been worried too. Not about me, which is what everyone else is worrying on, but about everyone else. Maybe I should look closer to home, before panicking on how Mike's wife is holding up.

I'm feeling quiet. Quiet doesn't sit well with a lot of people, they need to know how I'm doing, which I can understand. It's one thing when you can come and peer into my face looking for the 1000 yard stare, and quite another when you're a continent away looking for clues. Would it help to know that a couple of times this morning, I laughed? ;-)

Right at the core of me, I'm fine. Right up to about two inches from the surface, I'm fine. Mind you, I said that in 1994, but this time I think I mean it. I'll be Mab again when I can find her in me and in the meantime, folk will just have to make do with me. Those who know just how yampy I can get have sent Syd in to get me. That's always a good tactic and the hooks are in now, it's just the hauling home to be done.

The Grove isn't a fun place for an empath right now. Grief and anger powerfully sent in abundance. It's abating now, but I had no shields at all for a while. Plus, I couldn't lay Mike out or do some of the things that others were able to for his wife. I've known that lad, very closely, for a few years, I had to do something. So my equivalent of laying him out was to build his memorial pages, which meant reading each post again to try and match the border to the post. I'm glad I did it now, even if at times it was like picking scabs. It's helped me a lot.

Laurie has written a post describing the brook running through Witchgrove, full of nuturing love, hope and vitality. I read it last night and it met my mood. I wrote one back describing the Grove as I saw it and got well into it. It occurred to me that I was effectively describing Shambala, but there you go.

All the posts with the brook running through in the title has 'The Riverboat Song' playing in my head. No big reason here, just that title reminding me of this song, so don't worry about looking for clues in this one:

The Riverboat Song - Ocean Colour Scene

I see double up ahead
Where the riverboat swayed beneath the sun
Is where the river runs red
Like a King who stalks the wings and shoots a dove
And frees an eagle instead
It's more or less the same as the things that you said

I see trouble up the road
Like the things you found in love are by the way
And like to cheat on your soul
Like the best and worst of thoughts that lose control
Before you lie on your bed

It's more or less the same as the things that you said
Anyway for all the things you know tell me why does the river not flow
Anyway for all the things you said tell me why does the river run red
Anyway for all the things you've seen tell me when will the river run green
And anyway for all the things you know tell me why does the river not flow

It's more or less the things you fail to say in your way that's your trouble
Like a King who stalks the wings and shoots the moon and the stars
And his double
It's more or less the same as the things that you said
I see trouble up ahead
Where the river boat swayed beneath the sun
Is where the river runs red
I see double - that's my trouble.



So that's me.

It's all going to be alright in the finish, just let me and Syd do our work on my mind and I'll be properly back.

yours
Mab
xxxxx