Bittersweet: Cherry Bomb

Recently a friend asked to borrow my copy of Atlas Of The Heart, figuring I would have a copy as a devoted reader of all things Brene Brown.  I, of course, have a physical copy and an audio version.  As I pull out my copy of Atlas,  I started to wonder where my other copies of my Brene books where.  Most I own the audio version so those were easy to locate in my Audible account but one book was noticeably missing:  Braving The Wilderness.  I immediately used my September credit to buy it.  As I drove home today, I started the book.  The theme of the book: true belonging.  I'll spare you my watered down version of her point. UT you at least needed the setup for what happened next.

I stopped the book at Chp 3.  I needed time to digest the 2 chapters I had just heard and needed some music to help soothe my mind.  What should happen to play: Cherrybomb by The Runaways.  Great song but one of the most bittersweet songs in my world.  Why?

Cherrybomb was the first song Sould Sister ad I ever choose for our band.  We were at a function, on opposite sides of the room when the dj played this song.  It was like kismet, we both instinctively went to find the other to say this song is for us.  It wasn't our best song but it was a song that made me feel like a real bass player.  The last time we performed it, at Punk Rock Prom, right before our friendship and then our band imploded, I felt my hottest, series, coolest self ever.

It is bittersweet because I don't believe I'll ever have that feeling again.  The trifecta I always want but always fall short of achieving. The bestie band mate that gave me cool by proxy is what I miss most of all.  The sense of belonging to a band but most of all to myself.

When the song finished I cried.  Grieving the loss of Soul Sister all over again but really grieving how I felt that last performance. Yes, I am hot, at times, and sexy , at times, but never cool.  Today I'm a tired mother of 2 trying to find my way as an academic librarian. I feel miles away from the woman who performed at the Punk Rock Prom.

This past weekend, I played bass with someone. It was the first time I played with another person in 8 years.  I'm rusty.  I struggled. Honestly, it felt pretty crappy.  He wanted to yell out notes but I know bass tabs.  I struggled to understand what was being asked of me.  It was like starting all over again.  I hated it.  I hated him.  I hated the shame I felt.  I put my bass away feeling like a failure.

You would think this was a negative experience but it was the fresh start my bass and I needed.  I can't go back to Punk Rock Prom.  I'm beginning all over again.  I have an opportunity to make new memories with music.  After 8 years, I don't want the old me.  I want this me to play bass, badly especially at first.  I doubt I will ever play bass in public again but I can relearn the bass cleft again and not freeze when someone says play an "E".  I can play Cherrybomb with new people and smile at the memories of that old me, not today, not yet, but I am well on my way.

A cup of tea

 I have recently started listening to Bittersweet: How Sorrow and Longing Make Us Whole by Susan Cain on the recommendation of Brene Brown.  The entire concept of being able to be whole when we are able to experience the sweetness of life along with the bitter really speaks to my soul.  It was in listening to the first chapter that I had a realization about my relationship with tea, the actual drink.

So I have been a long-time hot tea drinker, mostly herbal teas given to me by my Mexican grandmother to obtain healing of one kind or another.  Because it was my grandmother that gave me tea when I was hurting or sick, a cup of hot tea represents caring to me.  Now before this moment I wasn't aware of this connection but it's importance comes into play later so keep reading :)

When I was in college, I became fast friends with a fellow tea drinker.  She came from a British family and of course tea is a big thing in that culture.  When we were in college, she and I would go to the opera and enjoy fancy tea together afterwards. After college when we would get together, we always shared a cup of tea.  She found an amazing blend of Lavender and Earl Grey.  I absolutely loved it and the conversation we would have while drinking tea together.  And then after a very hurtful attacking email, the friendship was over.  On the verge of becoming a mother, my friend attacked my entire way of life.  I lost a friend but I also lost my deep love of tea and the ritual of sharing tea with a friend.  For about 10 years I couldn't stomach the idea of drinking Lavender Earl Grey because the pain was just so deep in my soul.

So a few years back, I met a new friend who is a tea drinker.  Now, in the last almost 12 years since I have been back in Texas, I had all but given up tea in favor of coffee.  It seemed all of my friends were coffee drinkers so outside of the occasional London Fog, I drank fancy coffee drinks.  It is uncomfortable to be the tea drinker among coffee drinkers and compounded by the bitter memories around tea, I saved tea for when I was alone.  I had all but completely stopped drinking tea if I was with anyone.  

Then this new tea drinker in my life.  A massive tea collection to rival any serious tea drinkers stash. This new tea stash to drink my way through if I allow myself to enjoy tea with someone again. 

I guess it has been a couple of weeks now, I was handed a cup of tea.  This cup of tea was perfect.  The perfect temperature.  The perfect brew time.  The perfect amount of sugar.  The perfect amount of cream.  I didn't have to ask for anything.  The perfect cup of tea handed to me just because.  

Part of the start of Bittersweet is analyzing your heart for its base longing.  What is that thing you long for?  That thing you need?  For me, at my core it is to be taken care of, to be shown care without an exchange.  To be loved and careful just because.  When I realized this base longing, it clicked that I was handed a cup of love and care just because.  My base longing was met without me having to do anything in exchange.  No words, no deeds, just because.

I am the oldest of three children with my brothers being twins and only 15 months younger than me.  I wasn't alone with my parents for long and when my brothers came along they required a lot of care and I was moved the role of caregiver.  It was my job to keep my brother safe and make sure they were doing well in school.  We were latch-key kids to very hard working immigrant parents.  So at my core, I often feel overlooked and used.  I am loved for what I can do not just because I am.  Then I up and married a man who loves me dearly but doesn't do a lot o
f celebrations or just because.  He is very practical and I really love him for it but that does mean this base longing just gets pushed to the side.

I was handed a perfect cup of tea.  Tea that means love.  Tea that means caring.  Tea that took me back to the love only a grandmother can really give because when you are bad she can hand you off so she can feel free to spoil you.  A warm hug in a cup.  A cup to soothing liquid to help heal a wound caused by bitter words.  A cup that helps me move on from bitter end of one friendship to the sweet start of being able to trust myself to make new friendships.  So much meaning and need for that perfect cup of tea.