t i r e d

I feel the kind of tired where I could fall asleep mid-chewing and nod right into a plate of eggs. Tired between my eyes. And in my neck. And head.

After Eden was born (and it probably should have been illegal for me to drive because I was so tired), I listened to the Weepies album Hideaway every time we got in the car. It marks that time of great shift, summer brilliance, and exhaustion.

I listened to it again today for the first time in a while and couldn't help being bolstered by the lyrics to "Can't Go Back Now":

Yesterday, when you were young,
Everything you needed done was done for you.
Now you do it on your own
But you find you're all alone,
What can you do?

You, and me, walk on walk on walk on
Cause you can't go back now.

You know there will be days when you're so tired
that you can't take another step,
The night will have no stars
and you'll think you've gone as far as you will ever get

But you, and me, walk on walk on walk on
Cause you can't go back now...

I can't really say why everybody wishes
they were somewhere else
But in the end, the only steps that matter
are the ones you take all by yourself

And you, and me, walk on walk on walk on
Yeah you and me walk on walk on walk on
Cause you can't go back now

It's about this stage of life trying to waltz in a life of solitude; fumbling for our next steps; feeling pangs of isolation, exhaustion, and the stubby rough end of our rope; knowing at the same time that we aren't the only ones journeying; choosing to walk on because, after all, we're able to do so much more than we think we can.