My daughter turned 9 last weekend. The march of time continues grinding me to dust every time I look at her and think: She’s getting so big!
What’s the German word for something being the best thing and worst thing at the same time?
The part of it that’s bad, is that things change. It’s not always going to be this way, or any of the other ways it was before. And there are things that I loved about those ways, and they’re gone. A reversing Polaroid, fading as the pages shake off the calendar.
And it’s just Change. As I’ve said before, change itself isn’t good or bad, it just is. It’s what the universe does. Sometimes it’s not the change we want or have been expecting, but no amount of complaining or preparation can stop the inevitability of change from occurring.
One thing that your children getting older does, is remind you that you are also getting older. And you getting older means... Well, sorry to be a downer, but it means we’re gonna die.
And that’s the motherfucker of all changes, right there. And with change — especially a change from alive to not — there is the unknown. And your brain does not like the unknown. That’s basically its whole deal: To know things.
Your brain will full-on tell you that an optical illusion is real, because it wants to know what it going on. That’s why you assume things and jump to conclusions, because your brain wants to know what’s going to happen next. When the brain doesn’t know, it can react a couple of ways: Curiosity. Anger/Fear.
Curiosity is what what drives innovation and discovery and prompts learning and growth. Curiosity is accepting change, even if just to mitigate its impact in the instance to an unwanted change. Your brain wants to know why the change happened and what it means going forward.
Anger and fear is wanting things to stay the same. It’s not wanting to change. It’s your brain telling you that these things are wrong, because what it already knows are the right things. It’s insisting that the past was better than it is now. It’s not wanting to be left behind by the world. It’s insisting that others have to suffer and be afraid just like you, because you know what it’s like to be afraid, and it’s lonely if you’re the only one.
I know the modern state of popular music isn’t for me. It’s for young people. It’s demographics and market share and TikTok and image and all this stuff that I’m not meant to understand. So, do I complain about it and rant how it’s not as good as it was when I was growing up? No. I just listen for new stuff that I like, or listen to that old stuff. And if one of my favorite legacy acts1 releases a new album and it sounds different from their early stuff, am I going to shell-out an exorbitant amount of money to see them live in concert and wait for them to play the old hits, otherwise I’ll just wait in line for beer while they’re playing stuff from their new album? No. And not just because I can’t afford to travel for concerts anymore. But if they were still making music like they did when they were younger, then they haven’t progressed at all and are probably making a calculated play at placating their fans by trying to recapture a spark that has long dissipated. You can’t capture lightning in a bottle much in the same way you can’t with farts, either.
I think that nostalgia and wanting to deny change are reasonable reactions to fearing the monster at the end of all our books. But the pages turn whether you want them to or not. You can wistfully wipe damp eyes looking at photos, but you will never be that person living in that moment ever again. You can share stories of past adventures, but the memories and feelings on your skin of sun and dirt and wild water will fade with each sunset.
You don’t “win” the longer you can hold onto the past. There’s no prize at the end of your life if you’ve made the least amount of unwanted changes in your life.
And maybe it’s control. The illusion of having control over one’s life in this unfathomably huge world with weather and animals and other people that we have no control over, but will invariably affect us and our tiny lives.
People will tell me: “Oh, you’re going to have to watch out for the boys with your daughter.” Or something to that effect... And I just want to say: “How do you know she won’t like girls?”
But I wish I could keep her from having her heart broken. I wish I could protect her in impossible ways from all the pain hiding around every corner and innocuously in plain sight. But I can’t. I mean, fuck, just because some people think the most important thing in the world is that they are able to own a gun, we all have to live with the near inevitable reality that our children might be killed by firearms.
But I can’t stop her from growing up. I can’t keep myself from aging. None of us can stop death.
But that’s not the point. The point is to let others have their turn. Let them live a life that has good and bad and triumph and regret — a full life. There’s a difference between Guidance and Control.
Guidance is walking with someone, holding their hand until they can do it themselves. It’s about seeking and sharing knowledge and supporting others in their time of need. It’s telling someone the reason why they shouldn’t do something, in the hopes that they won’t.
Control is pushing someone around. Telling someone how to do something, and if they mess it up, it’s their fault. It’s creating rules, but not telling anyone why those rules are there in the first place, and then punishing them when they break those rules.
Guidance is being with people. Control is setting yourself apart. It’s lonely at the top, and all that.
Sometimes still, my daughter will hold my hand when we cross the street or as we’re walking around a store. She doesn’t need to — she’s big enough to do that stuff on her own. She’s not going to get lost. She knows how to be safe and look both ways. But it’s probably not because she needs to.
Her hand used to be so small in mine. A whole fist gripped around a finger. I remember that. And I’ll be beside her every time she reaches out for me, from now until she no longer wants to hold my hand. And how ever long that is, is okay. Because it’s been the best time of my whole life. You get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit.
-bcp
This is the first song Spanish/Catalan band Mourn has put out since their 2020 early Pandemic record, Self Worth. In the ten years of them being a band, they continue to grow from their post-punk origins, and have come out with their most pop song to date! I can’t wait to hear the rest of the album. I’ve been singing this song in my head ever since it came out on Wednesday.
Oh fuck, it was SO HARD to type that because of my arthritis and cataracts and I’m so fucking old...