Lyrics:

I could go back
To a time before it started,
Before my broken heart had
Hit the wire.

I could go back
To an old familiar framing,
Filled with guilt and shaming,
For a while.

But I’m letting go
Of all the things they told me to believe.
I’m letting go,
Though I see no path,
I have to leave.
I’m letting go
My heart can hear a call I
Know I have to follow
Where it leads.

Life was once black
and white, and things were simple:
either pure or sinful,
there’s the line.

I could go back
To place that feels like safety
My brain would probably thank me
For a while.

But I’m letting go
Of all the things they told me to believe.
I’m letting go,
Though I see no path,
I have to leave.
I’m letting go
My heart can hear a call I
Know I have to follow
Where it leads.

I am following love home,
following love home,
wherever it leads.
(repeat)

For your reflection:

• Have you sensed any unstayability in the spaces or places you’ve inhabited?

• What has inspired you to stay and be part of it?

• Have you sensed a call inviting you elsewhere, though you didn’t know the direction?

• What space have you given to honour that sense?

• Where has it led you?

Behind the song

There is much I could say about this song, and at the same time, so little that needs to be said.

The process of writing this song was a true exploration of my feelings, paradoxes and needs, and it stayed quite malleable for more than a year. It’s a “should I stay or should I go” predicament that embodied a deep wrestle, as I engaged in challenging conversations with others in my community, wondering if change would be possible, and as I discerned my own points-of-view on many different matters. I would often switch the lyrics entirely: “I could let go…but I’m going back, to try and be the change I want to see.” At any particular moment, the sentiment could reverse itself, and become the declaration of anchoring return, instead of the statement of release.

It became a way to meditate on which path to follow across the many forks and crossroads that presented themselves. And how often they did! As well, so often I found myself in conversation with others poised at similar threshold moments: where am I going? What voice do I listen to here? Do I stay, in a place where change is hard, or do I move forward towards something not-yet-found?

I’m not sure if a song like this ever gets to a “right answer,” simply a capture of a moment in time, the inherent wrestle we tend to face. What is the “place,” anyway? Is it an actual community, space, workplace — or is it more a sense of conditioning embedded in our brains? Is it possible to stay present in a community and resist the externally-imposed expectations that are part of it? Is it possible to take the healthy and good parts of a community and separate them from what is toxic? At what point does the toxicity outweigh the good? What environments are the best for healing?

The melody line of “I’m letting go” follows a path of notes up the keyboard ascendingly, as if a helium balloon is being released. The melody does what the words say, in a releasing motion. The doubling-down of the pounding bass notes, which are reminiscent of “Come Together,” continue to offer an “anchor” alternative — a “but,” as it were — of a return to earth. Musically, the chorus of the song is a conflict, between anchoring and releasing. Stay rooted to earth, or release to wherever things may go.

I recorded this demo in February 2022, in an evening session in my office on my grandfather’s keyboard. The outro of “I am following love home” was an improvised / ad-hoc contribution, as that line was already being used in a different song I was working on, but it seemed very thematically connected to this one, and I wanted to try and bring it in. (Apologies to Our Lady Peace — clearly borrowing Raine Maida’s vocal line from 1999’s “Potato Girl”...for the “I-I-i-i-i-i” part.)

There is much that has changed in my life over the past year. The territory explored through the writing of a song like this enabled me to be emotionally ready to release the grip on an old way of life and say yes to something new, to hopefully stay open to where “love” appears to be leading.

I have post-it on my computer monitor that reads “I’m following love home.” This invitation is to remind me to stay open even through tumultuous change, and stay faithful to the sense of where love is present in a system or relationship.

May we truly stay open to the direction that love takes us, no matter how surprising or familiar, circuitous or revolutionary, continuous or disruptive the path may be.