Arrows

Leonard Cohen, in his oft covered song Hallelujah wrote,
"...all I ever learned from love
was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya."

That line has been the one that resonated the most with me over the many years of listening to this song (particularly the Jeff Buckley version). And for those many years, my interpretation of those lyrics was such that anyone who tried to love me, well I was gonna shoot their love arrow right down the middle. They're not gonna get to me. Cause if I was pierced by one of those arrows, it would strike so deeply, it could only be painful in the end. And that's what I thought those lyrics were meant to state. Self-preservation. I mean, the song is so terminally depressing, how could it be at all positive in any way?

And as I started to write this entry, I was going to say that I'm starting to pull away from identifying with this misery. That this lyric no longer has so much weight. But as I was typing it, this new interpretation occurred to me.

Because, you see, I've been waiting for love for 30 years. Real, true, unadulterated love. The kind of love that I've only read about or heard about. Yes, the kind of love that made Florentino Ariza lose control of his bowels. The kind of love that made John Lennon break apart The Beatles.

And yeah, I've had the silly infatuation stuff, where I was loved for a time, at the beginning when it's fun and easy. But the reason I always wanted to deflect those arrows before anyone else pierced my heart was because that infatuation stuff never went further. It was never sustained. No one ever found it worth their while to want to make the effort, or to - above all else - choose me. So rather than letting those arrows hit me, like they so often had, only to eventually disappoint me with the poison tipped arrowheads, I chose to shoot them down in fear.

Despite all that, in 30 years, I still remained hopeful. That I would see a golden arrow coming my way amidst all the poison, and rather than piercing my heart, it would softly melt into it. Only, as I look at these lyrics tonight, I understand that I can shoot first. My shots don't have to be solely for self defense. I can put myself out there first. I don't have to so passively wait for love to find me. I can see someone lining up their arrow - someone who outdrew me - and I can shoot first.

Only problem is that I only have so many of my own golden arrows to send out. And my quiver feels so much lighter now than it ever did before. So while I may have it ready, while that golden arrow may be ever so impatient to be sent out in the world, I still have a seemingly endless supply of my own sharp, poisoned ones with which to deflect.