I’m like a bird

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by Stan Faryna

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I hated the song. Nelly Furtado’s song, I’m Like a Bird. I especially hated the chorus. And it played everywhere. They played it in the night clubs, the taxis, MTV and, yeah, everywhere. It was inescapable for a time in the wild west of Bucharest.

 

I’m like a bird
I’ll only fly away
I don’t know where my soul is (soul is)
I don’t know where my home is
And baby all I need for you to know is
I’m like a bird
I’ll only fly away (I don’t know)

 

I hated the chorus because it meant nothing was forever. Because there was no commitment. Because there was no forever and always. And I was fighting for these things.

I was fighting for the world and the people written upon my heart. I was surrounded by enemies on all sides like Odysseus at the Trojan beach. I was cut and pierced by swords, losing blood, and my legs were so tired they burned. I was like a bear fighting for higher ground – fighting a sea of snarling and barking dogs.

The burns on the kitchen floor of the apartment in the Sturdza palace looked like the stripes on a tiger – lit cigarettes rolled out of my hands as I slept and woke in five minute cycles through the night as I tried to figure out how to rule the world.

Some years later, Nelly Furtado’s song, Say It Right, would prepare me for divorce. The song was also inescapable.

 

Oh you don’t mean nothing at all to me
No you don’t mean nothing at all to me
But you got what it takes to set me free
Oh you could mean everything to me

 

I was crawling on raw hands and knees, blind and broken. I could not carry the burden and the shame of her further.

I have to say I’m not a fan of Nelly Furtado. The lyrics aren’t brilliant. Nor the music. That’s my opinion and opinions, even mine, don’t really amount to much.

I happened to hear Nelly’s song again this morning, I’m like a Bird.

And I find myself a little more like that bird that I hated. Because I fly. Away. And yet I find this liberating as both apology and as an affirmation of my spirit.

Unlike Nelly, I know where my soul is. I know where my home is. But it is not a where. It is a Who.

Holy, Holy, Holy are you, God.

 

Stan Faryna

22 October 2015

Fairfax, Virginia