“When I got home I
mixed a stiff one and stood by the open window in the living room and sipped it
and listened to the groundswell of traffic on Laurel Canyon Boulevard and
looked at the glare of the big angry city hanging over the shoulder of the
hills through which the boulevard had been cut. Far off the banshee wail of
police or fire sirens rose and fell, never for very long completely silent. Out
there in the night of a thousand crimes, people were dying, being maimed, cut
by flying glass, crushed against steering wheels or under heavy tires. People
were being beaten, robbed, strangled, raped, and murdered. People were hungry,
sick; bored, desperate with loneliness or remorse or fear; angry, cruel,
feverish, shaken by sobs. A city no worse than others, a city rich and vigorous
and full of pride, a city lost and beaten and full of emptiness. It all depends
on where you sit and what your private score is.” ~ Excerpt from Raymond
Chandler’s The Long Goodbye
There are words from Brandi Carlile’s song, “The Story,” that I might sing, and perhaps you, too. “All of these lines across my face Tell you the story of who I am So many stories of where I've been And how I got to where I am But these stories don't mean anything When you've got no one to tell them to” You don’t have to be single or alone to feel the depth of those words. Someone in a longtime marriage or relationship might feel them, too. The voyage through life takes each one of us through an assortment of experiences. Some of them ennoble us. Some crush us. Some lift us beyond ourselves and carry us into the lives of those who need us. And some carry us to those we need. Some experiences are burdens. Others ease and encourage us. Some leave us baffled and unsure. Some build confidence within us and are so affirming that we grow in substance, in courage, in tenderness, and sympathy. As we age, the lines in our faces can represent the hurts we have not yet resolved. Or t
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