The Big Bang, by EyM

“I Can’t Help it, I’ve Got to Have You.” Often the only logic involved in human urges is the bio - logic. That’s not all bad. But in our inspired reactions we drape ourselves in all the culturally over loaded accouterments of urges. We acquiesce and make it ever so much more ooy, gooey with love songs, soaring music, new hair dos, extra make up, 3 sprays of perfume and so on. Expectations rise to the sky. Up and up they grow. Expectations go far beyond what any real person could ever live up to.

“It’s All Over, I’ve Got to Have You.” Oh what a thrill, THE BIG BANG, it’s the answer to all I ever wanted. I’ve never felt this way before. This is really the real it.

Until, KABOOM! Itty Bitty little twinklings of our crush, based on absolutely nothing true, gather like chopped up Christmas tinsel swept into a weary old dust pan. There it is our dream come true, match made in heaven, all piled up and ever so dull in the dust of truth.

What do we do? Learn? Oh why do that? Instead we listen to sob story music, indulge in the: oh so blues. We take on layers and layers of misery, and oh so lonely…ness. On we go, on and on we go, weeeeee go… till once again….

Onto a friendly glance, the perfect chin, some pretty eyes, the sweetest smile, or a oh so like me, we slap securely like a strong refrigerator magnet, … the soaring music, the poignant words. Up they go again, those rising expectations. “I Can’t Help It, I’ve Got to… you know, THE BIG BANG," and of course the terrible crush crashing KABOOM.

Of course you all know that’s not all there is. Maturity at whatever age it anchors its roots into our soul soil and grows full foliage, helps us see a way to deal with hearts more than parts.

Well really, this is all so unsettled and so unsettling. What do I know about it anyway? Now the question sits once more dumped in my lap. I do know and confess: if it weren’t for a good imagination and a very long memory. I’d have no clue about a big bang.

But for the ever flowing, constant craving, awkward, human confusion, I am grateful. I guess.

© October 2014

About the Author

A native of Colorado, she followed her Dad to the work bench to develop a love of using tools, building things and solving problems. Her Mother supported her talents in the arts. She sang her first solo at age 8. Childhood memories include playing cowboy with a real horse in the great outdoors. Professional involvements have included music, teaching, human services, and being a helper and handy woman. Her writing reflects her sixties identity and a noted fascination with nature, people and human causes. For Eydie, life is deep and joyous, ever challenging and so much fun.