...I think I've Seen This Film Before
Thank you to Megan Westra for the summer book study on Henri J.M Nouwen’s, The Inner Voice of Love. For the next few weeks I will be sharing my reflections based on the reading.
Not so secret confession: I love Taylor Swift. I also love her new album Folklore. Another not so secret confession: I have had a few romantic relationships but nothing serious and long term. As a result, I can’t always relate to her lyrics in that way. My longest “relationship” was with an institution: academia. And let me tell you, that “relationship” was toxic and lopsided. In addition to the structures of academia being racist and oppressive, individual relationships with professors and students could be toxic.
Don’t get me wrong there was some joy and security but the good definitely did not outweigh the bad. So, while I cannot relate to her lyrics on a relational level, her lyrics talk about a level of woundedness that I think many of us can relate to whether our wounds are tied to our relationships with our exes, parents, or to friendships that have disintegrated, or even our careers.
One of my favorite songs from her new album is, “Exile” featuring Bon Iver. It describes the pain and aching of a toxic relationship that fell apart. The song really touches my own woudedness: broken dreams, broken relationships, and a difficulty with moving on while knowing that one has no choice.
This past year has sucked. In addition to the general world-shattering events of the pandemic and political instability, it was another year of broken relationships and dashed dreams. It was a year of learning how to mourn a future I wanted but which quickly became out of reach without becoming bitter. It has been a year of learning how to live with my wounds and work towards healing without hurting other people. It has been a year of learning to let go when all I desperately wanted to do was hold on: to my plans for 2020, for my career, to my relationships.
It has been a year of learning to speak my truth and be honest about my struggles without being consumed with it. Something I am still learning how to do. (I fail all the time.). I think that’s another reason I enjoy Taylor Swift’s music. She has been accused of being repetitive, of being “too pop” and “mainstream,” of writing songs that are too similar to one another, especially thematically wise (love songs, broke up songs) etc.
But for me, her music, especially the songs on Folklore, are a way for her to reclaim the narrative of her life, to tell her story (or not tell it) in the way she wants. She speaks openly about her wounds and has built a career around explaining her pain and while some people would accuse of her not being able to “move on,” I disagree. I think she’s found a way to live with her wounds and not let them stifle her and control her.
Henri Nouwen talks about this tricky balance: of acknowledging one’s wounds without being controlled and limited by them. Intellectually thinking and obsessing over the details may help you understand what occurred but it may not provide healing. He states: “you need to let your wounds go down into your heart. Then you can live them through and discover that they will not destroy you. Your heart is greater than your wounds.”
He goes on to say, “you have to let go of the need to stay in control of your pain and trust in the healing power of your heart there your hurts can find a safe place to be received and once they have been received, they lose their power to inflict damage and become fruitful soil for new life.”
I am still struggling with what it means to “live through my wounds” and to allow them to settle in my heart without intellectualizing them. I am still grappling with how to acknowledge my pain without letting it control me. But tonight, “living through my wounds” means listening to Taylor Swift’s “Exile” on repeat. Probably not what Nouwen meant. But for now, for tonight, for me, this is what living through my wounds looks like. And for now that’s enough.