A Fan in a Typhoon

The contradiction I live with

I do not believe in an afterlife. Even so, when life has become very difficult, I sometimes speak to my late grandfather as though there might be somewhere my words could reach him.

I have even asked him to let me win the lottery. That is an actual prayer I have made, not a joke added to make the story more entertaining. I know the contradiction.

Where I send the hope

I have also thought of him while burning incense. The smell, the act of lighting it, and the quiet moment around it give shape to something that is otherwise hard to explain.

I cannot say that he hears me. When I feel unable to change the larger circumstances of my life, I still find myself sending that hope toward him.

Why the lyrics leave room

I did not want the song to settle whether belief is correct or whether prayer changes anything. The comparison to a fan in a typhoon is deliberately small: I am not asking for the entire storm to disappear.

A little relief can feel enormous when a situation is beyond one person’s control.

What the song adds to the album

The album returns to the ways people remain with us after their actions, words, and ordinary care have ended. My grandfather is no longer here, but I still turn toward him in certain moments.

I do not know where the words go. I know that I still say them.