Soundtracks

I don't know about you, but I live my life to a soundtrack. It used to be a Contemporary Christian playlist with song titles like, ‘I Can Only Imagine’ and ‘From the East to the West’. I liked that period in my life. It was calm. It was fruitful.

Then overnight, it seemed, someone swapped out Mercy Me and Third Day for Evanescence and Nickleback. Those were the angry, stormy years of 2004-08 and the music I listened to reflected that tone.

Then came 2009 and 10. Things went from bad to worse. That’s when Rascal Flatts’ “Stand” became my theme song. When life knocks you down, you get back up and stand… and in my mind, I’d see myself doing just that, sometimes crawling, sometimes dragging myself up my fingernails, but always rising again. Because I knew if I didn’t do it in my imagination, I wouldn’t do it in real life. And I had to find a way to survive with my important parts intact.

These days, I have a whole Supergirl Circle of Support playlist to get me through each day. My alarm is ‘Little Miss Do My Best’ from Sugarland. I drag myself out of bed at 4:30 to the sound of:

Little Miss Down On Love, Little Miss I Give Up, Little Miss I’ll Get Tough don’t you worry ‘bout me anymore. It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright, sometimes you gotta lose ‘til you win… it’s alright it’s alright it’s alright… and it’ll be alright again.

Every single time I turn on the radio, Sara Evans’ ‘I Get a Little Bit Stronger’ is playing, so I downloaded that for my ringtone.

And I'm done hoping that we could work it out - I'm done with how it feels, spinning my wheels, letting you drag my heart around. And, oh, I'm done thinking that you could ever change, I know my heart will never be the same. But I'm telling myself I'll be okay. Even on my weakest days…I get a little bit stronger.

My IPod is full of great stuff, but my favorite is Eli Young Band’s ‘Guinevere’ –

She carries memories around like souvenirs down in her pockets

She should have let some go by now but can't seem to drop it

Says forgiveness ain't nothing but a lifeless tire on the shoulder of her soul that never rolls

For as much as she stumbled she's runnin'

For as much as she runs she's still here

Always hoping to find something quicker than heaven

To make the damage of her days disappear

I love the words 'as much as she’s stumbled she’s runnin.' That describes the last ten years of my life perfectly.

Martina McBride’s “When God Fearing Women Get The Blues” is great inspiration on the treadmill.

When God-fearing women get the blues, there aint no slab dabbing telling what they’re gonna do… I got a Mustang, it’ll do eighty, you don’t have to be my baby, I’ve stirred my last batch of gravy, you don’t have to be my baby anymore.

Okay, so I sold the Mustang, but you get the gist.

But the song in my head, the mental music I hear when I look in the mirror every morning is “Who Are You? Who, Who, Who, Who?”

I’m empty. A blank canvas. And even though I don’t miss the stress and the fighting and the pressure, I do miss home. I miss my old life… I miss my horses and the whippoorwills and Psychobitch (my dog) barking all night. I look out the window at the mountains and the sage and I ache to feel a horse between my knees, to hear the sound of cattle bawling, see baby calves bucking and kicking in the trail ahead. I feel like while I was looking for peace and happiness, I lost myself.

I feel these four walls closing in, Face up against the glass, I'm looking out. Is this my life I'm wondering. It happened so fast. How do I turn this thing around? Is this the bed I chose to make? There's greener pastures I'm thinking about, wide open spaces far away… All I want is the wind in my hair, to face the fear but not feel scared. Wild horses, I wanna be like you. Going closer to the wind, I'll run free too. Wish I could recklessly love like I'm longing to. I wanna run with the wild horses, run with the wild horses. (Natasha Bedingfeld)

Okay. Enough of that.

But, if I’m not married, what am I? The last time I was single, LoverBoy was wearing red plastic pants singing The Kid is Hot Tonight. I had curly permed 'big' hair and thought high-waisted pants were flattering. My hair is longer now and straight. It’s darker. I wouldn't be caught dead in high-waisters, but I’ve lost enough weight that the low-rise jeans I stole from my daughter are in danger of becoming hipsters. Not a good look for someone who isn't exactly a spring chicken. The lines around my mouth and eyes spell out ‘pre-menopausal’ if you look close enough. Thanks to my grueling schedule, I now have zombie-circles under my eyes.

What is it they say …“When I am old. I shall wear purple.”

Key ominous music.

Last week, I bought a purple lace bra. Oh my God, I’m over the hill. Next thing you know, I'll be wearing a red hat.