Lights Will Guide You Home

I love my family. I've made that comment before. It is a rich vein of talent, affection and information that I have been glad of repeatedly over the years.

One cousin-in-law has been the source of much music gold over the years. He recently sent us six (!) CDs full of goodness. 3 were his recent faves, and 3 were CDs full of love songs. Maybe he sent them near Valentine's Day? I imagined while listening to this trove of cultural goodness that it must be tricky to make recommendations like that. Don't want to be too hip for good pop stuff, but don't want to be too pedestrian. I think my friends are doing just fine.

So I'm playing through these six CDs. I drive to Towson for my part-time job with the Census 5 or 6 times a week, so it's been great to have some new sounds. On the first play-through, one number on love-song CD #2 caught my ear, Coldplay's "Fix You"; I had a strong, nearly visceral negative reaction to it, based on the line from the chorus, "I will try to fix you".

I spend so much of my time talking to my kids, trying to reason, order, bully, beg, trick, persuade, guide them to do what I think is right. Trying to teach them how to know what's right on their own. When to turn away and make a different choice.

Kids pick hobbies that are expensive (or that they really aren't very good at), and then they get angry when they aren't having fun. You ever had a child come crying to you because a video game is too hard? Or they overreach, take on too much, and founder under the load. Too many AP classes, one too many extra-curricular activities.

Teaching someone how to not throw good money after bad is hard.

So that was what I was thinking when I heard the song the first time. I didn't want any of my children to get sucked into the vortex of trying to "fix" someone that was broken. Trying to make something work that just isn't.

But I stuck with the song and listened to it again, and realized it wasn't just about a boyfriend trying to fix his girlfriend. It speaks rather to the unwavering love than insists no matter how awful something has gone, I will keep trying. I believe it can be better.

I think I can help, and I want to try.

That is a message I can get behind.

So to my kids, who are off to school, off to adulthood, off to points unknown. . .

Be careful. You are precious, of infinite worth, and there are forces at work in the world who mean you harm.

But be brave. Try. If you fail, keep trying.

I will always love you, and will always be there to give you a hug when things go sideways.

And if things go really really wrong, come home. We will try again.

The Coldplay video of this song, linked below, can't be played, but you can click through to watch it at Youtube if you want.

When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Tears stream down on your face
When you lose something you cannot replace

Tears stream down on your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you



And this is a silly. Chris Martin did a guest-spot on the show-within-a-show on "Extras".

"Plus, Gwyneth is makin' drumsticks."

*laughing*

This Is What 200+ Miles Looks Like.

On a bike!

We started the week divided into two groups. The older boys went to Ohiopyle to do a one-day whitewater trip on the Youghiogheny (I think it's pronounced "Yock-eh-hane-ee) River. I went with the younger ones to Cumberland, MD to the beginning of the the C&O Canal Towpath.

For the first three days, the younger boys biked short distances, only 15-35 miles per day, so the older boys could catch up (their beginning point was 75 miles away from us, so they had a REAL trek just to catch up). I was impressed, over and over, by the quality of the interaction between the young ones. These are 12- and 13-year old boys (except for Sam, who turns 12 in two weeks), doing something more difficult and time-consuming than almost everything else they've ever done. But they were kind to each other, willing to help, follow directions.

At the end of each day, we would camp next to the Potomac River, which of course would lead to playing in the water. The most disorienting thing was that as the river twisted and turned, so did we. It "seemed" like we were just going South, maybe Southeast, so waking up in the morning with the river being on the North, or the East of us was strange.

And we biked, and biked, and biked. We stopped at every hiker/biker campsite (so-named because they are only accessible by walking or riding) to refill our water bottles at big hand-operated pumps. This required a lot of cooperationg, one boy working the lever while another held his bottle (or head) under the stream of water. We became experts at the the levels of quality; some smelled of sulphur, some were orangey-brown, some had visible particulates floating in the water, but some were clear, cold, and deliscious.

By the time we connected with the older boys Wednesday afternoon, we were tired but having fun. We went to Fort Frederick and watched a live-fire demonstration of a .75 caliber black powder rifle. On our way there, Stewart and I got lost, staying on a trail 1/2 a mile past our turn off. When we looked at the map, we saw a county road went straight to our destination, and took it (instead of doubling back). Word to the wise biker; straight roads on a map are not the same thing as flat roads. But it worked out; our mistake saved us some biking distance and got us to the Fort ahead of the rest of our group!

I'm still sore in places, but so glad I got to go with them. People in today's world don't do many hard things; life is easy. It is easy to be lazy, or small-minded. Easy to be rude, easy to just get by. It was an honor to help these young men do something hard, and to celebrate with them at the accomplishment of it.

We did a 50 mile day so the younger scouts could earn their Biking Merit Badge. Saw beautiful countryside, amazing architecture. We only got caught in one 30-minute thunderstorm, but happened upon a huge empty barn seconds after the rain started.

We had fun, and now we are home.