Are you going to age with grace?
Mixtape notes on "Oblivion" by Bastille // #TheIsolationJournals
Oblivion marks a transition to controlled softness in my life, an appreciation of the fleeting and changing undercurrents of existence and the will to move the needle of my own accord.
My Oblivion days begin around age 23. They begin early, before the chime of an alarm or heavy footsteps on cheap vinyl planks across the hall. Unlike the periods prior, which distinctly embraced the night owl in me, this new era thrived on darkness before dawn and basked in solitude under sunlight. This era traded coffee for green tea, HIIT for yoga, body for soul.
Oblivion by Bastille. It’s the song I listened to every morning on the way to the library for LSAT prep, on the way to my secret bench by the river for test practice, on the way to my part-time law office job, on the way home after a long day of studying and work. On repeat on repeat on repeat.
According to Genius.com, the song is about Bastille lead singer Dan Smith trying to understand the severe depression his friend is experiencing while working through his own problems at the same time.
The lyrics:
When you fall asleep
With your head upon my shoulder
When you're in my arms
But you've gone somewhere deeper
Are you going to age with grace?
Are you going to age without mistakes?
Are you going to age with grace?
Or only to wake and hide your face?
When oblivion
Is calling out your name
You always take it further
Than I ever can
When you play it hard
And I try to follow you there
It's not about control
But I turn back when I see where you go
Are you going to age with grace?
Are you going to leave a path to trace?
It’s only in retrospect, through this little writing challenge, that I’m beginning to understand why this was the song I couldn’t let go of. It reads like a letter I would write to myself in and out of episodes I once struggled to comprehend—or perhaps was too afraid to embrace as part of my being, too afraid to define as a diagnosis. I couldn’t admit then, with all the endurance and zest and power I believed I had, that I was in pain. I couldn’t admit that I felt I was wasting away. Seeing and ignoring myself in pain forced me to reckon with it later on.
But at the time, the helper in me, the friend in Dan Smith, sought tangible, friendly solutions. Turn the night owl into the early bird. Turn the coffee addict into a love of gentle herbs. For years I suffered with an insufficient attention span, bouts of memory loss, unexpected weight gain and a toxic reliance on toxic men. During my Oblivion year, everything shifted. I was in control, and under my own control, I reigned supreme. There was a new will to prove that I could be better, that I would be better. Better meant doing the opposite of what I knew.
This era began one autumn and ended sometime the following spring. At least seven months of studying and working in a field of no interest until fate led me where I belong: in writing. To some, that’s more than half a year wasted. But don’t you see how much was gained?
This was the era that showed me what I could be, what I could do, what I would do if I could just make the stars align on my own terms. Like I said, it was the era that gave me a new will to prove I could be more. But note: The stars only align every 5,200 years, and never do they behave as we plead. And note: As essential as it was to understand my potential during Oblivion, this was not the era that helped me understand why I deserved better at all. That would begin with Lady.
—fiza
Prompt from #TheIsolationJournals, a 30-day creativity project to help make sense of these challenging times. Join in!
Write down five time periods, ages, or moments from your life.
New immigrants on the block (childhood)
Young love and heartbreak
Road to independence (college-ish and early adulthood)
Lady’s home (age 24)
The chase begins: Writing as a creative career (age 28)
Next, pick a song to pair with each moment.
All Star - Smash Mouth
Here Without You - 3 Doors Down
Oblivion - Bastille
Sunrise - Norah Jones
A Sunday Kind of Love - Etta James
After writing a “quick and dirty paragraph about each one,” take the one that feels most interesting to you and expand it.