Take A Bow

I grew up with Madonna songs and videos on the radio and MTV. She was and is larger than life: a world-famous pop star, sex symbol--strong, beautiful, and overflowing with taboo. I knew the songs but I was never a fan who owned her music. I recognized her talent and daring. She challenged us as a culture to accept and respect strong women on their terms.She sings with a sweet, well-trained voice. Her musical career has spanned 5 decades. With dozens of hits, not all of her songs are deep and meaningful, but she’s a good songwriter. Live to Tell is haunting. A handful of others stick out in my head. She deserves her acclaim.I would hear snippets of Take A Bow in a store when walking by, but never knew what I was hearing—just echoes of that memorable and catchy chorus. I sensed sweetness—something bare and dreamy, with a touch of melancholy.Then I listened to the song in earnest and found it wondrous, sublime and complex. This offering was deeper than the typical Madonna fare--less performative and extroverted. Her writing was subtle: using the metaphor of a stage and performance to gently tell her story of heartbreak.The title implies artifice on the part of her lover, yet she delivers no invective. She doesn’t scorn his limitations. She merely shares a sweet and sorrowful melody. Her heart stays open. Her disappointment does not stain her love, her truth.She merely asks, ‘you took my love for granted, why, oh why?’The show is over, say goodbye.In her unabashed vulnerability, she embodies the fool archetype. The innocence, the willingness, and the risk.So many of her songs speak from a strong individualistic perspective, from feminism and empowerment. But this offering reveals the pain of losing, of the other getting the best of us. In doing so, she reveals her soft underbelly.If Madonna was singing to women across the world that they can be strong and empowered, maybe she’s saying that there is power in vulnerability.That the price of living a full life is performing our high wire act without a net.That strong people sometimes lose in love.And that no one is beyond confusion. No one is infallible.To constantly suspect others and defend against the vagaries of loss means to forego the rewards that love offers us.Perhaps our internal terrain is revealed in the wreckage of a connection that meant so much to us. We can take heart that even when we suffer tremendous loss, we don’t have one default setting. We don’t flatten the experience into seeing red, blaming supposed enemies. Static B-movie plot lines—villains and damsels in distress. We just feel bewilderment and a soft ache for those who couldn’t sustain the exposure of union.‘I’ve always been in love with you’ is the heart’s proclamation--innocent and bold. It yearns but does not beg. Her love is a verdant and timeless river. It does not succumb and collapse into bitterness. Her love abides. It stands impervious to the choices of the other.As I explore this song’s meaning and contours, I wonder if Madonna is expressing something more nuanced than mere unrequited love. Perhaps the love was just as real for the other person, but they chose to turn it off, to move on anyway. The show is over. But perhaps she discovered that she could not, that her love wasn’t mutable, fungible. Maybe what she means by ‘I’ve always been in love with you’ is that she discovered this love, this precious and living artifact in a deep cavern in her heart, waiting there since time immemorial to be discovered. Perhaps these treasures don’t expire. Maybe they don’t die. They just are. They radiate from our depths and from a timeless place. When someone can or will no longer meet us in that place, the artifact—the love, remains. It doesn’t obey the other lover’s exit.The heartbreak is not only that the lover may have been acting. It is that he can apparently step out of the role, leave the stage, and call the whole thing finished. She cannot. For her, the love is not a scene with a beginning and an end. It is something discovered and habituated to.Love doesn’t always wither when someone withdraws. It can fill so much heart-space that we can wonder how to move forward. Perhaps instead of trying to put out the flame or turn down the intensity, we might just grow around it. Get bigger. Build a bridge. Increase our capacity to hold love.No need to shame ourselves or accept impatient cultural messages. Instead we can recognize that this person showed us just how much love we can contain and channel. We may struggle to bear its intensity. We may continue to speak its lines, even after the curtain falls, the lights go down and the set is broken down. Because for us, the play was real. The stage that housed it was temporary. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe