I originally wanted to do an absolutely brilliant piece on mothers and the relationship of daughters to them, but that was just scrapped, because this is my blog and I can do so. Ha. Such power! Maybe later.
As I was driving home today I was listening to one of my favorite albums, Erin McKeown's Grand (trust me and go buy it). The song "An Innocent Fiction" came on and I was reminded about one of the first times I heard it. The climax of the song sounds as if Ms. McKeown sings, "You bleed what you believe" and I just thought that was brilliant. Such depth! Such insight! Of course I didn't realize til weeks later that the line was actually the simple "You believe what you believe", but that meant that now I had full reign of the bleed comment. Now I am the brilliant one! Sa-weet! Since I heard that song this evening, I've been thinking on and off about that idea of bleeding what you believe (while watching house mascot Big Ben lose in the AFC title game to hottie McBrady*) and I haven't come to any particularly insightful or even quasi-logical conclusions. What does it mean to bleed what I believe? Does it mean that those things that matter to my very core pulse through my veins and make me live and breathe, that keep my very blood flowing? Does it invoke a sense of martyrdom? I wonder if it calls the bluff of verisimilitude--it forces us to decide just what we will bleed for and what we will let slide. Too often I back out of those situations that would hurt me or cause me to bleed on some level--I am nothing if not a master at the practice of self-preservation. But I want to bleed what I believe. I want there to be no distinction between my convictions, my standards and myself.
Thoughts?
* I know his name is not "McBrady" I just said that to invoke the McDonalds reference. Unlike Emilie, I like football.
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