A Safe Place to Fall Apart

Listen: “Both Sides Now” by Joni Mitchell (2022 Newport Folk Festival)

When Joni Mitchell was in her early 20’s, she wrote an amazing song of psychological depth called “Both Sides Now.” In the song, Joni poetically expresses the journey of human development from childish naïveté (belief in Santa, tooth fairies, and idyllic love) to the desert of criticism and complexity (where everything falls apart), and then to a second naïveté in which we are called out of the desert of disbelief and into a richer complexity of deeper truth, magic, and love (borrowing Paul Ricoeur’s idea of “The Second Naïveté”). I’m always amazed when someone so young is able to express mysteries which are so deeply nuanced and seasoned. It’s as though something or someone is singing through them. (Follow Stan Mitchell’s advice and watch Joni sing “Both Sides Now” in two minutes when she’s 24 years old, and then watch her sing it fifty years later after two packs a day and strokes and she takes seven minutes to sing it as a lament.)

Where do you fall apart? When your foundations and your faith and the people and things you so deeply believed, seem to fail you. Where do you find a safe place to question everything, fall apart, and rebuild? When something jars your world—a new idea, a failure, a divorce, a loss of career, a death, a new experience, an illness—and your world shatters and falls apart. Where do you go?

It seems to me that our families, friends, and faith communities should be shaped and informed in such a way, that these foundational communities provide safe places for honesty, vulnerability, questions, doubts, death, and rebirth. But this is not always the case. Sometimes these communities are so brittle, dysfunctional, and insecure, that they fear any challenge, question, misstep, or human frailty will threaten their very existence.

When my world fell apart, I found supple, caring, loving, and safe connections in the hearts of my family, true friends, and the weathered wisdom of the Twelve Step recovery community. I am grateful I found some people with whom I could be totally honest about my faults, fears, doubts, and questions, while at the same time providing me with safe and gentle guidance.

I believe we all need faith communities in which we can explore beliefs, find faith, lose faith, and reconstruct faith. Communities which embrace the knowing and the unknowing, the beliefs and the doubts, the potential answers and the questions, the joys and the griefs, the certainties and the uncertainties. These communities are supple, loving, and caring, and they are able to embrace the whole experience of human life and development with grace, beauty, and love.

I agree with spiritual director Parker Palmer who says that we all need “sorting and sifting in a community that knows how to listen, that knows how to ask you honest and open questions, that does not attempt to save, fix, advise, or correct you; but simply lets you work it out in dialogue with other people.” This kind of community is rare, but possible. Palmer quotes theologian, activist Nelle Morton: “Our task in this time is to help hear other people into deeper and deeper speech.”

In July of 2022 I heard Stan Mitchell give an inspirational talk at the Wild Goose Festival held in North Carolina. I was moved to tears as Stan shared his own story and beautifully articulated his thoughts by mashing up Paul Ricoeur, Joni Mitchell, Walter Brueggemann, and ancient Scripture (like the progression of Psalm 21 as First Naïveté, Psalm 22 as The Desert of Criticism, and Psalm 23 as The Second Naïveté). During a recent podcast interview, I asked Stan Mitchell to articulate his thoughts and experiences to my audience, listen to those thoughts here.

Here’s how Stan interprets Joni Mitchell’s classic song “Both Sides Now” through the themes of clouds, love, and life:

Clouds (First Naïveté)

Rows and flows of angel hair

And ice cream castles in the air

And feather canyons everywhere

I looked at clouds that way

(Everything Falls Apart)

But now they only block the sun

They rain and they snow on everyone

So many things I would have done

But clouds got in my way

(Second Naïveté)

I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now

From up and down and still somehow

It’s clouds illusions I recall

I really don’t know clouds at all

Love (First Naïveté)

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels

The dizzy dancing way that you feel

As every fairy tale comes real

I’ve looked at love that way

(Everything Falls Apart)

But now it’s just another show

And you leave ‘em laughing when you go

And if you care, don’t let them know

Don’t give yourself away

(Second Naïveté)

I’ve looked at love from both sides now

From give and take and still somehow

It’s love’s illusions that I recall

I really don’t know love

Really don’t know love at all

Life (First Naïveté)

Tears and fears and feeling proud

To say, “I love you” right out loud

Dreams and schemes and circus crowds

I’ve looked at life that way

(Everything Falls Apart)

Oh, but now old friends they’re acting strange

And they shake their heads and they tell me that I’ve changed

Well something’s lost, but something’s gained

In living every day

(Second Naïveté)

I’ve looked at life from both sides now

From win and lose and still somehow

It’s life’s illusions I recall

I really don’t know life at all

So I make a toast to life—its magic, its illusions, its pain, and its confusion. And a toast to the communities, friends, and families which embrace the messy whole of it and graciously love one another through it.

Shalom

©realfredherron, 2022