The Well Runs Dry

The Well Runs Dry

John Paul Derryberry

"When the well runs dry, and the food runs out 

And the words you speak Are the only things that touch your mouth 

Will you be content with the stories told, of the days of youth to the days of old?"

The opening lines to "Well" by the folk band, Briscoe, out of Austin, have been on my mind this week. It's a catchy tune, with a throwback empty sound, to mirror the idea behind the song's theme. Which, for me, is about what happens after a relationship or life has run its course. In the pressure cooker we have created in modern life, we can often only think about and process what is occurring at this moment; the past and future are left out. 

The past provides context of what has occurred, how we have conducted ourselves, and the trail of emotions we have imparted to others. The future offers hope, a reminder that the decision we make will reverberate in many of our tomorrows. Who we are is tied up in a lot of who we were, and I'm always asking myself, how would 23-year-old John interact with 41-year-old John. I often attempt to visualize what aged or retiree John would say to 41-year-old finding his leadership footing, John.

It's the only way I know how to interact with the theme of this song. When your time is done with life, or a particular relationship, what would they take from you? What will they say about their time spent with you? What are the stories people will tell about you? There is no written-in-stone way to figure this out. Obviously, the stories people will tell will vary and may even be stories you do not remember. 

Will I be content with the stories told? For most of my life, yes; for my entire life, no. There are some moments I'm not proud of, and when a couple of my wells ran dry, I did not conduct myself in a way that left good memories with everyone. I've grown, evolved, and pushed myself to understand that, when we are gone, all that is left is the stories others tell about us and whether those stories will make people better, hopeful, and-or joyful. I certainly hope so, and it's how I want to interact with people. For now, many wells still run for me, and I still have interactions, moments, and choices to ensure, when they run dry; they leave a good memory with the folks I spend my time with.