Planet Earth Is Blue Nothing I Can Do
Planet Earth Is Blue
But there's something I can do
I remember the afternoon and evening that I first listened to David Bowie's Space Oddity, an album containing that title song, and an almost lost short one, "Letter to Hermione." It was winter, and I was in the 11th grade. Holed up in my bedroom, alone and worrying about a girl who didn't like me as much as I did her.
Bowie was always hard to sing with, though I kept trying. His voice was as chameleon-like as his appearance. Lost somewhere between tenor and baritone, I suppose this only shows that clear and distinct voice categories are more rare than we know.
Almost like trying to define where a child, or adult, falls on the elemental scale for ADHD: Fire, Wood, Earth, Metal, Water.
To my knowledge, I never had problems with attention and certainly was never hyperactive. Yet, reading about oneself on this guide to personality is intriguing even if you don't need or want a diagnosis.
My wife, a psychotherapist, told me long ago that my element was clearly the Earth, which makes sense to me. Most people are a mix of all the elements, so being clearly defined comes with its own multiple asterisks. We of the Earth, though, are in the middle of the spectrum, and even more murky, we are
"…sometimes caught up by the outside world, sometimes more distracted by inner thoughts. Because Earth children are so concerned about fitting in, they can sometimes be difficult to identify. Like chameleons, they often take on the characteristics of those around them" (Stephen Scott Cowan, Fire Child, Water Child 63).
Like David Bowie.
If you're having a hard time identifying your child's or your own nature, look to the earth.
When you look, this is what you might see:
Someone who "likes to be in the middle of things and [who] cares deeply about the social group."
Someone who "prefers to stay in the background, sometimes going unnoticed."
Someone who is "a true caregiver."
Someone "genuinely concerned with maintaining attachments, whether with family of friends."
Someone whose "archetype is the peacemaker."
Someone who "finds a greater sense of security in contact with others."
Someone who "loves give-and-take conversations."
Someone for whom "separation becomes their great distraction" (49–50).
Earth people can worry obsessively, and their worries can cause them to lose sleep.
From my experience, the more someone says to me, "Don't worry," or "Cheer up," the more I worry and the deeper I sink.
The earth is thick and dense, and made of many layers. The other elements have their issues, and joys, too, and Cowan's book is helpful in thinking about our various, and mixed, natures.
But what should one conclude from studying so intensely the way we are/were?
I keep thinking of how, throughout my life, I've been encouraged to "know" myself. My younger daughter, who is a mixture of Fire and Water, according to my wife (as strange as that sounds), has always "known herself," from the age of three, when she refused to jump in a pool, even though she was being safely monitored by one of our good adult friends.
"Nope," she said, "Not gonna do it. I know myself."
I don't think I've ever been that confident or sure, maybe not even now.
This might sound funny, but for most of my life, I've had a hard time speaking up, for fear of alienating someone, including myself.
I do not enjoy disagreements and arguments. Doesn't mean I don't have them, but I don't enjoy them and often go out of my way to avoid them.
My attachment to and fear of separation from my parents, as a child, caused me to wet the bed, to have to come home from sleep-overs, all the way to my three-month dalliance with the Boy Scouts.
Even today, I'd rather be at home, and have a strange fear of distant places where I'm not sure I'll feel safe.
And, I identify with those who feel alone, lost, cut apart from social groups. I always feared this would happen to me — that I wouldn't be picked for a team, that if I were picked it would be reluctantly, and when I failed to perform well, I'd be ostracized or even dropped. Some of these things happened, and the fear of them happening kept me from trying other sports or teams.
I love bonding with others over sports teams, favorite authors, movies and TV shows.
I feel sorry for those on the losing side, too.
And, I identify with those who feel alone, lost, cut apart from social groups. I always feared this would happen to me — that I wouldn't be picked for a team, that if I were picked it would be reluctantly, and when I failed to perform well, I'd be ostracized or even dropped. Some of these things happened, and the fear of them happening kept me from trying other sports or teams.
Still, I have accomplished great things: a thirty-five year, successful teaching career where I bond with students and colleagues, and I do speak my mind.
And even more importantly, my wife and I have been lovingly attached for almost thirty-six years; we have two loving and grown daughters — the older one seems to be Earth, too — who are traveling to see us next weekend. Being separated from them is the hardest thing I've personally experienced during this pandemic time.
When they come, I am planning to cook all their favorite foods: Grillades and Baked Cheese Grits; fresh farm vegetables (fried okra, creamed summer corn; pink-eyed peas; squash casserole); BBQ ribs; blueberry cobbler. Whatever they want.
We'll talk, and play games (dominoes, Chick-A-Pig), and I'll happily watch them talk to each other and with their mother. They'll be here, near, and for that time, that's all that will matter.
And Please, let's not discuss when they'll leave, or I'll start feeling blue again.
"For here, am I floating round my tin can
Far above the moon
Planet Earth is blue and there's nothing I can do…."
When I used to sit in my room listening to this song, I thought I understood what "Major Tom" meant. What it was like to be unattached, unmoored, aloft and alone.
I loved Bowie so much and identified with what I understood about him. In my town, I wasn't the only one, but clearly one of the very few. I love him even more now — now that I see this more natural affinity.
I am not alone; I am clearly attached. But just because I am, doesn't prevent me from thinking about separation and being anxious about it, especially now, when it feels necessary to let some old friends go because I don't want to argue with them about politics and why they support or apologize for the hollow man in charge of our country, someone who, it feels like, has none of these five elements in his nature.
But, unlike Major Tom, I've never felt like there was nothing I could do.
I'm doing it here — connecting, attaching, speaking my mind, and maybe even making peace.
Source: https://hinged.press/planet-earth-is-blue-db2f1c2d5f4b
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