I’ve been thinking a lot about money lately. What I have, what I don’t have, what I’d like to have. Why I choose to spend money on certain things when I don’t know that I really want them. How to prioritize better. How I want to make money. Why I can’t just have money. I can’t quite figure it out- all I really want out of life are food, travel, and books. This shouldn’t really be that hard do and yet I have all these cravings I can’t satisfy. Maybe when I say that I’ve been thinking about money, what I really mean is that I’ve been thinking about food, and books, and travel. I do that a lot.
Eventually in Supernatural, Sam and Dean will reach the nexus of good and evil, when the best thing they can do for the world is hang up their bloody demon-killing knives and their holy oil, and live that apple pie life that they keep trying and failing at. They just play at too high a level. When Death is on your speed dial, when both Heaven and Hell have turned you out, when Lucifer seems a paltry villain compared to your current adversaries, your fight is probably going to do more harm than good.
When all that’s true, and you’re still willing to bring the world to its knees to save your brother, when his beating heart and breathing lungs are still your top priority, well then you know your battles are going to do more harm than good.
“The sea!” the note said. “The sea!”
It was not signed, and said nothing of where he was going or when he would be back or why he must leave. Still, Ned’s father knew all the same.
The sea meant I love you.
The sea meant I will one day return.
The sea meant I must find the world and hold the world and live in the world. And I must love the world. And love it and love it and love it. As much as I love you.
In his mind’s eye he could see his son – the boy, the youth, the man – standing in the midst of limitless space. Water, wind, sky. The core of the earth. The slice of the mountains. The roof of the stars. The pulse and rhythm of the ocean’s ceaseless waves.
Ned’s father pressed the note to his heart. He closed his eyes. Tasted his own saltwater tears.
–The Witch’s Boy by Kelly Barnhill
Music was the offering you gave to the empty places you created. I wonder if it still is. I wonder if the price is still too high.
We play a lot of Disney music in the store I work in. And I always find myself feeling weirdly guilty when “Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?” or “For the First Time in Forever” from Frozen come on. I over identify with Elsa, closed off and too cautious and too protective. Kelly is Anna, my red headed, messy, determined sister. The parallels aren’t perfect, for reasons both subtle and obvious, but still when Anna starts singing about missing Elsa, who is hiding from her, or about her loneliness, I get a little secondhand twitch.
When I told Kelly that she said, “Well that’s cause you’re Dean.”
There will be peace when we are done, but we aren’t done yet.