I Don’t Wanna Hear It.

I’m not much of a crier. It really doesn’t happen often, even when I’m wrapped in PMS emotions. Never. I think that, instead of crying, I sing. I write songs that enable me to sing things out of my heart.

I’ve decided that I don’t wanna hear my vocal tracks from the week in Oregon. I had a minute to remember the intense process of recording, and I realized that I don’t wanna go there again. The emotion of the songs unexpectedly wrecked my heart. I wasn’t prepared for how much of myself I gave to each song. All of me. ALL of me. And I know that I’ll be able to hear it in each cut.

Remembering some of the lyrics, I realized that the past few years I’ve written my way through the tears:

In this life if we love it we will lose it but its better if we choose it
Than to hold it ‘til its torn away.
In this life letting go does not come easy but to love in sight of losing
Bears the promise of the greatest pain.

It’s been fifteen years.
Of fifteen tears
I’ve got no more fears
I’ll runaway I’ll runaway

You’re my port in the storm
You’re my something right when it all goes wrong
You’re my ray of light when the night wears on and on

The road of good intentions is paved with regret.
I’ve walked a mile of forgiveness and still can’t find the next
Bend in the road.
But we both know
But nothing ever stays the same.

From the outside lookin in
I feel I’ve lost those things about me
That were bright are growin dim
unmistakable unbounding

There’s too much in all that. In the rise and fall of the melody. In the hopelessness breathed out as I sing it. In the strings and keys and rhythms holding up these words.

It’d be like watching yourself have a crying fit… Would you want to do that?

11 thoughts on “I Don’t Wanna Hear It.”

You’re killing me here. Does that mean that we don’t get to hear them??

I would want to do that. But I’m a little odd like that. Always analysing…trying to make sense of things, to see patterns in my life…I don’t know. I hear you on the ‘unexpectedly wrecked my heart’, though, and think you shouldn’t if you don’t feel strong enough. Maybe in six months, you’d be able to see beyond the crying fit to the healing?

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Um, when you put it that way…

I am a crier…which can be difficult at times. Like when I was recording a song I’d written for my sister’s wedding and was desperately unhappy at being single myself and it consequently took AGES to do…and still has wibbly vocals because of the emotion. But my sister said that’s the bit she loves the most.

Or when I recorded the song I wrote for my wedding – I won’t go into that detail…!

Or when a sweet and sensitive member of my staff is having a hard time and comes in to share, which almost always ends in tears…it’s really hard for me not to join in, but I obviously can’t.

All that to say…maybe we do want to hear it? Of course, up to you if want to share it, but you just never know what your listeners will appreciate the most

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well, it’s still a little recent, but I’m thinking if you give it a little more time, you’ll want to listen.

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now i really want to hear the song!! lol!

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Ok, I’m so sorry that I read that fantastic post and I’m about to make it all about me in this comment, but I just realized something.

When I was little, I was a crier … not a “throw a fit” crier… just could cry easily. Mom used to say that I could cry when the noon whistle blew because it sounded sad.

But most of my adult life… not a crier. I felt SO deeply, but I was the one who held people when they cried, was the one who sang at her best friend’s daughter’s funeral without shedding a tear because her husband asked me to be strong for him. But I was always singing. I was pouring out my heart every time I touched a microphone. And I rarely ever cried.

I’ve started to become a crier. Not “big time easy crier” but I startle myself sometimes when I start to cry over something. Sometimes it’s the smallest thing that gets me going and I’m shocked by it. I’ve always thought it was the medications or the pain or the exhaustion. I think steroids definitely play a role, but…

I’m not singing. I’m not pouring my heart out. And now I cry.

All that to say: YOU ARE SO RIGHT. And I’m pretty sure now I’ll be crying when I hear your songs.

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and i used to NOT be a crier. i was afraid to cry. and when i did cry, it was always associated with something traumatic. so as i got older…i would connect crying to all those fears of not ever wanting to. then i realized that i am safe now. so…i cry. over everything.

but as to your experience…i get it. so…i’ll cry for you

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Well, I am a big, BIG crier. I cry over everything – happy tears, sad tears, angry tears, moved in church tears, tired tears, and the list really just goes on. It does not take much at all for me to cry – my husband says we should buy stock in Kleenex!

And the last time I sang a song in church (as a solo), I cried. It was a goodbye song for friends who were leaving to be missionaries in southeast Asia, and I just lost it. It was AWFUL!! Mortifying and disappointing and just…awful. And I would not want to watch or hear that.

But I do want to hear your recorded songs. When you’re ready.

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Sometimes I wish I could just have a good cry for now reason. I don’t want to be prompted to cry because I had a fight with Jake, I just want to cry to get out all the anxious junk I have building up inside of me. Sometimes I think I forget HOW to cry, until I unexpectedly do, and then I wish it would last longer and be harder. I need that cleanse.

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for NO reason.
is what I meant.
obviously.

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