I remember a few years ago, sitting in a car with a dear friend in the parking lot of a big chain music store, listening to her brilliant new sound system. That night J'oga introduced me to what instantly became my favorite Bjork song, ever. I barely breathed, let alone moved, while Bjork wailed this magnificent revelation of pain. I do love a happy song, but even so, when a piece of music resonates with a personal truth, it is irresistable to me, even if it touches a tender, terrible place.
This song and this artist may not do it for you, but I tell you I was moved to big tears that first time I heard this track, and the second time, and the third time. It's because I got it, I get it. It gets me. I've been there, so there. I'm not there now, thank heaven, but "there" is still part of my history, my truth. I can feel this song in the systems of my body and my mind every time I listen to it. It doesn't give me pain, but it acknowledges and describes a pain that I never want to forget, so that I don't lose the lessons, or the empathy, that it nearly killed me to gain.
If you don't like Bjork, move along and come back tomorrow; you're excused. If you do like her though, I suggest you listen to this with your eyes closed. The photos of her in the video are entertaining, but they diminish the impact of the song.
I don't post this to depress you, or to inspire you to dwell on or suffer over any heartaches of your own, past or present. I post this to honor a friend who is feeling very broken, maybe even unhealable, right now. I say to her, it will pass. "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." One day the tears you cry over this unrelenting pain which is trying to crush you will simply be tears of relief, understanding, and even compassion. One day your heart and your back won't be breaking beneath this burden; The Lord will help you set it down and then he'll show you how to safely climb upon it to reach a more peaceful place. I know this. I know it.