Drag path

Whether archaic or zeitgeist-y, new words or phrases fascinate me. Currently, I'm captivated by the phrase drag path. Apparently, it's also a social media hashtag...so for those who imbibe in that sketchy pastime, perhaps you were already familiar? 

Although I don't know much about this phrase's history, I encountered it thanks to the (fantastic) band Twenty One Pilots who recently released a song bearing this name. Perhaps they coined it? 

If you know anything about me, you know I'm an (overly)enthusiastic learner so experiencing this song, this phrase felt...how to describe...? 

You know when a much-missed friend covers your eyes from behind...like a makeshift blindfold, then suddenly removes them to reveal themselves? Like that...like a sight for sore eyes, but for my ears instead, ha. I didn't know I was missing this phrase (and this song) because I didn't know it existed! It turned me round. And now I see drag path evidence everywhere. Thanks (once again) to music and language, I'm empowered to identify something that once needed many more (failed) words to describe the profound but typically nebulous after-effects of an emotional experience.  

To explain: a drag path is literally the path made during a task, struggle, or conflict—it's a sign, an impression, an earthly scar—somewhat forensic in nature. Metaphorically though? Imagine a grief drag path, or those created by addiction or depression or trauma. And like a drag path through the snow (eventually melted) there's intangible and psychic evidence everywhere. Think about the personal story a series of hidden tattoos might tell. Think about a heart surgery scar. Think about the pandemic's ongoing effects: a drag path of health issues, education gaps, politics, histrionics and loss. Think about the devastating drag paths of this violence and these (endless) wars.

Hardwired to be introspective, I think I've long sensed this idea but I'm grateful to now name it, to recognize it, to help others acknowledge theirs. Sometimes my own drag paths linger like ghostly trails. Heck, much of this blog might be a drag path. 

We've all endured something—or we're currently enduring something. This phrase enables us a lens through which to investigate life's inevitable emotional scarring. Who/what dragged us? Did we drag our own feet? At what moment did we stand on our own two feet again? Others may never know our hidden struggles, but whether the evidence is subtle or not, they leave a wake. What might we learn from the wake? 

The song features a character's intentionally-left evidence, "I dug my heels into the gravel as evidence for you to unravel," touting some type of rescue. One could insert their favourite saviour accordingly, but the song leaves it ambiguous, resisting a single interpretation. Regardless, what I'm more interested in about drag paths is this: they signify BOTH weakness and strength, surrender and resistance, friction and perseverance. In this sense, some are necessary. And sometimes we rescue ourselves. 

Dear friends, contemplate, even examine your drag paths, but remember those struggles also represent survival. Whether it's to signal rescue or pure tenacity, continue digging in your heels.