Your Dreams, and the Long Haul

[Image above: “The Long Haul,” by artist Robert W. McGregor]

From whiskey river (italicized portion):

Excerpt from
“Sabbaths 1998: VI”

But won’t you be ashamed
To count the passing year
At its mere cost, your debt
Inevitably paid?
For every year is costly,
As you know well. Nothing
Is given that is not
Taken, and nothing taken
That was not first a gift.

The gift is balanced by
Its total loss, and yet,
And yet the light breaks in,
Heaven seizing its moments
That are at once its own
And yours. The day ends
And is unending where
The summer tanager,
Warbler, and vireo
Sing as they move among
Illuminated leaves.

(Wendell Berry [source])

…and:

For, after all, you do grow up, you do outgrow your ideals, which turn to dust and ashes, which are shattered into fragments; and if you have no other life, you just have to build one up out of these fragments. And all the time your soul is craving and longing for something else. And in vain does the dreamer rummage about in his old dreams, raking them over as though they were a heap of cinders, looking in these cinders for some spark, however tiny, to fan it into a flame so as to warm his chilled blood by it and revive in it all that he held so dear before, all that touched his heart, that made his blood course through his veins, that drew tears from his eyes, and that so splendidly deceived him!

(Fyodor Dostoevsky [source])

Not from whiskey river:

Active relaxation relieves stress better [than dozing] yet keeps the mind primed.

The best active relaxation is a short mental vacation. Find a comfortable sitting position and close your eyes. Breathe calmly and regularly. In your mind, picture a particularly relaxing moment. Choose any scene you want, such as a quiet afternoon walk on a beach. During this imagined trip, think of as many sensations as possible — feel the soft sand between your toes, smell the salty air, hear the surf, enjoy the warmth of the sun on your face.

With only a modicum of practice, you will find that these “mental movies” can quickly lead to moments of deep relaxation.

To make your mental movies most effective, when you close your eyes think of a phrase to initiate the exercise each time, such as “I’m now going on vacation.” Then focus all your attention on your breathing. When you begin to breathe in and out, fully expand and contract your lungs: inhale slowly for six seconds, hold the air for three seconds and exhale for six seconds. To help control your breathing, imagine there is a candle in front of you; you are not trying to blow it out but simply to make the flame flicker.

(Charmaine Liebertz, Scientific American [source])

…and:

Dream 8

Approaching my flat, I found that both panels of the front door were open. This was most unusual. From inside came loud noises and echoes of people talking.

My heart pounded in expectation of some evil, when I saw my dear ones smiling sympathetically. Yet just as I became fully aware of everything, the apartment was cleared of its contents, the furniture heaped at one end inside. At the sme time, workmen of all different ages — wall painters, mortar mixers, and water carriers — bustled about. And so the plot had been carried out during my absence, while my question was lost in the air…. Was this coup deliberately executed when I was in such a state of complete exhaustion?

I shouted at the workmen, “Who told you to do this?” But they kept on doing their jobs without paying me any mind. Overwhelmed by anger, I stepped out of the flat — feeling that I would never go back into it as long as I lived. At the building’s entrance I saw my mother coming, long after she had left this world. She seemed furious and indignant. “You’re the cause of all this!” she said to me.

“No — you’re the cause of what’s happened here, of of the things to come!” I shot back.

Then quickly she vanished, and I continued my flight.

(Naguib Mahfouz, translated by Raymond Stock, from The Dreams [source])

Whew. Some pretty heavy stuff there; I don’t know about you, but I need a break. Something more… lively.

A confession: the first time I saw Stevie Nicks perform her characteristic swirling-scarves, whirling-wood-nymph routine, I concluded that she was no more than ear and eye candy. Fun to listen to, nice to look at, both true — but with nothing, y’know, really there: clearly she stopped a few steps short of the attic, etc. Then I found out that she’d written “Rhiannon” (as well as quite a few other songs)…

To all of which, the only proper response (no matter how you word it) is: Duh.

Nicks seems to like talking about “Rhiannon.” I don’t know if she herself or someone else is responsible for the Stevie Nicks in Her Own Words Web site, but it seems significant that “Rhiannon” is the only song with not one, but two pages of things to say about it. Although the details vary, the general story of its composition (which took place before she’d joined the band) goes like this:

She was in an airport shop looking for something to read, when she came across a novel called Triad, by one Mary Leader. (That’s the cover of the hardback edition over there at the left. I have no idea if Nicks saw this cover or another but, boy, does that image look familiar or what? Not just for fans of the song, but for fans of Nicks herself!) Wikipedia has no article on either the book or the author, but includes it in a list of “prominent examples” of Gothic fiction. It does offer some description of the plot, when discussing the song itself:

The novel is about a woman named Branwen, who is possessed by another woman named Rhiannon. There is mention of the Welsh legend of Rhiannon in the novel, but the characters in the novel bear little resemblance to their original Welsh namesakes (both Rhiannon and Branwen are major female characters in the medieval Welsh prose tales of the Mabinogi).

(The Mabinogi, a/k/a the Mabinogion, as it happens, is one of the principal and earliest sources of legends about King Arthur. I liked the song way before that fact became important to me for other reasons, though.)

It’s not clear that Nicks ever actually read Triad; she says she just liked the name “Rhiannon,” and was pleased to discover — after composing the song — all the other associations with the name. She has also said she wrote the song in about ten minutes around Halloween, 1974. I think she might have been employing a little authorial-memory license with that estimate… But aside from wishing I myself could, in such a short time, write something so perfectly tuned for its time, its medium, its subject, whadda I know?

In any case, here’s “Rhiannon,” with the lyrics (as usual) following. It’s the full four-minute version from the album, not the shorter single.

(Remember: If streaming audio does not work for you, there’s always an alternative — clumsier, but it should work just fine. Just keep an eye on the correct bracket.)

[Below, click Play button to begin. While audio is playing, volume control appears at left — a row of little vertical bars. This clip is 4:11 long.]

Lyrics:

Rhiannon
(music and lyrics by Stevie Nicks;
performance by Fleetwood Mac)

Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night
And wouldn’t you love to love her?
Takes through the sky like a bird in flight
And who will be her lover?

All your life you’ve never seen a woman
Taken by the wind
Would you stay if she promised you Heaven?
Will you ever win?

She is like a cat in the dark
And then she is the darkness
She rules her life like a fine skylark
And when the sky is starless

All your life you’ve never seen a woman
Taken by the wind
Would you stay if she promised you Heaven?
Will you ever win? Will you ever win?

Rhiannon
Rhiannon
Rhiannon
Rhiannon

She rings like a bell through the night
And wouldn’t you love to love her?
She was alive like a bird in flight
And who will be her lover?

All your life you’ve never seen a woman
Taken by the wind
Would you stay if she promised you Heaven?
Will you ever win? Will you ever win?

Rhiannon
Rhiannon
Rhiannon

Taken by, taken by the sky
Taken by, taken by the sky
Taken by, taken by the sky

Dreams unwind
Love’s a state of mind
Dreams unwind
Love’s a state of mind