Cable a Tierra – Throw down the reins

For someone who likes to be right, being wrong really sucks. Worse still is behaving as you don’t WANT to behave – watching yourself while your mind says, what the hell are you thinking?? – but of course you aren’t thinking at all. You’re just – behaving. Hardest of all not to shudder at this lack of control. But perhaps instead of fighting against these spastic moments, it would be easier to “throw down the reins” and just go with the flow.

Ha. Go with the flow is not something I really know how to do – so I watch myself be grumpy, or irritable, or just flat out bitchy, and writhe inside because I KNOW it’s the wrong thing to do, but still more or less helpless to stop myself… and the talking/ thinking/ reflecting/ understanding comes later, after the damage is done, and I can retreat back to my cerebral haven with a sigh of relief. 

It would be SO much simpler if instead of these interludes of “Badly Behaved Sister/ Daughter/ Best Friend/ Girlfriend” and subsequent light-bulb moments, my emotions could send a telegram to my frontal cortex about what is churning down in my limbic system. “Emotions roiled. Passive Aggressive Bitchiness lurking.  Proceed with caution. Temporary isolation recommended.” So very much simpler!

It doesn’t always show, but I DO strive to be a better person than I have been or than I am. This is complicated, of course, as it is for most humanoids, by my many accumulated complexes and over-sensitivities, most of which can be traced right back to my parents (Sorry, mom and dad, but let’s face it – Freud was right. It’s all your fault!). I have a lurking fear that I am an emasculating ball-buster. I am terrified of showing emotional weakness. When I think someone I love may be angry at me, I become almost simpering in my need for reassurance and emotional security. I could go on and on, but I won’t (and not only because my parents are probably reading this!).

The point is, we all have our hang-ups, right? Now if only they wouldn’t get in the way quite so eagerly, and if only the advice of caring friends didn’t seem so insipid at the moment of truth – it just isn’t that easy to breathe and take a step back and re-evaluate with a clear head. Inner Defense Mechanism shouts: "This shit is about to blow up in your face! Iceberg ahead! Run!" (severely mixing its metaphors). And apparently, the best way to climb into a rowboat and haul ass away from the impending wreckage is to be a bitch. Wouldn’t it be nice if every time I felt threatened I suddenly wanted to bake cookies? That would be a reaction everyone around me would be happy to tolerate!

But, let’s be honest – the empirical evidence states that I have been known to date “men” who suck. So, experientially, it really makes complete sense that when a new relationship faces “rough weather at sea” (Hey, I know it's cheesy but I've decided to like this metaphor and I’m gonna go with it), I assume the worst and prepare to bail. 

But I don’t want to be that kind of person, or maybe I’m just too stubborn or too terrified to admit the facts to myself, so I pretend that I’m imagining the signs or that I’m being a hypochondriac and usually just when I get myself breathing normally again, the break-up hits (“love is like a balloon. It pops when a break-up hits. BAM! That is the end to that balloon, and to that relationship.” – this poem was really and truly written by a 7^th grader. Don't be deceived by the simplicity. It's a very wise poem!) 

So can anyone, in all fairness, blame me for being a wreck at the slightest signs of turbulence? Especially when it is so very easy for fear and awkwardness to combine to make the let’s-be-honest-about-how-we-really-feel conversation seem like you’re both high and paranoid-as-fuck and terrified to say what you really mean but determined to bring things to a conclusion and not leave things hanging. Maybe in those cases the best thing to do is not speak at all but just get naked and see if you can work things out that way. If, in the sweet aftermath, you still feel distant and scared, then you can imagine the conversation would have been pretty freaking awful. If, on the other hand, you feel warm and reassured, then it’s better you skipped the conversation in the first place, right?

But all that is assuming that you are aware enough of your emotions to know whether to have or skip the conversation in the first place. If all you have to go on is lingering irritability… you see how the telegram could really be useful!? “Dear brain. Shut the fuck up.  Signed, the rest of you.”

Here are the lyrics of the song "Cable a Tierra" by Fito Paez, from whom I stole the title of this post:

Si estás entre volver y no volver
si ya metiste demasiado en tu nariz
si estás como cegado de poder
tira tu cable a tierra.

Y si tu corazón ya no da más
si ya no existe conexión con los demás
si estás igual que un barco en altamar
tira tu cable a tierra.

Y yo estoy acercándome hasta vos
bajo la luna, bajo la luna.

Las cosas son asi,
tengo el teléfono del freak
que está deseoso de volarte la cabeza.

En un par de minutos sale el sol
si ya no hay nada que anestesie tu dolor
si no llegas, si no alcanzas a verme
tira tu cable a tierra.

No creas que perdió sentido todo
no dificultes la llegada del amor;
no hables de más, escucha al corazón
ese es el cable a tierra.

Y yo estoy acercandome hasta vos
bajo la luna, bajo la luna.

Las cosas son asi,
tengo el teléfono del freak
que está deseoso de volarte la cabeza.

Si estás entre volver y no volver
si ya metiste demasiado en tu nariz
si estás como cegado de poder
tira tu cable a tierra.