"Come in From the Cold" by Joni Mitchell
I am not some stone commission
Like a statue in a park
I am flesh and blood and vision
I am howling in the dark
I fear the sentence of this solitude
Two hundred years on hold (For my loving crime)
Oh and all we ever wanted
Was just to come in from the cold
I am drawn back to this song tonight as I think about my life. When I was a teenager, my dad gave me a CD of Joni Mitchell's greatest hits. The song that affected me the most was "Come in From the Cold." It's always been a favorite of mine.
I think I know why. Even at a young age, I felt my separateness, like I was outside on a cold night and looking through windows at other people's lives. My loneliness felt ancient. I still can't shake it well into my 30s.
Where did my life go? I ask that question every day. Where are my mother and father? Where is that girl I was? Where are my hopes and dreams?
Yes, all I've ever wanted is to come in from the cold—to belong, to be loved.
As a child, my favorite fairytale was The Little Match Girl. The first time my dad read it to me from a beautifully illustrated picture book, he had tears in his eyes. We were both affected by the story.
It's about a little girl who freezes to death while selling matches. In a futile attempt to warm herself, she strikes each match and sees images of all she aches for in the flames: a family, nourishment, and safety. Life is just out of reach. She perishes on a street where, only feet away, other people go on with their lives.
It's a story that indicts a society's indifference to the poor and the suffering, a society that looks away from the most vulnerable. But, on a deeper level, it's also about deprivation and otherness and what it feels like to yearn for care, love, and connection.
I think an important element of the story is the girl's attempt to find warmth. She strikes match after match, frantically trying to save herself. The meager heat from each flame is simply not enough.
She needs more, and the world does not give it to her.