Puts me in the mind of the "Serenity Prayer:"
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.
Right. And what "God" are we calling upon? What if the dirty little secret is that we can't really "change" anything? What if courage is irrelevant, and we humans just don't have that kind of wisdom at hand?
I mean, hell, what do I know? Too much caring can be detrimental. Caring is a business. It is not something in endless supply. We are not perpetual motion machines. We need to refresh, recharge, retrench, re-think.
Do we care about Humanity? Or do we pick some humans to care about? Do we care about the planet, or some things on it? How do we measure out our caring?
New idea. Care greatly about the things you love, and, well, the rest, parcel out your caring very carefully.
Take inventory:
What can I do?
What can I change?
Who can I touch?
How do I help?
How do I stay positive?
How to heal, both myself, and others?
Is healing even possible?
Are we all in a sense "Doctors" to and for Humanity?
The a.m. soundtrack - Bill Fay's "Life is People." (2012) - I think of this record as an obscure gem. A friend tipped me to this one. It is a healing record. Powerful. Spiritual. Even some of the titles will give you a clue: "The Healing Day," "City of Dreams" "Be At Peace with Yourself." There is also a fabulous cover of a Jeff Tweedy & Jay Bennet's "Jesus, Etc." Fay is charismatic, he is backed by a great band, perfectly realized tracks, a gospel choir, the record is a little church service. Good medicine for the soul. A humanistic manifesto, with great spiritual overtones. Love.
"The Cosmic Concerto (Life is People)"
There are miracles,
In the strangest of places
There are miracles,
Everywhere you go
I see fathers,
Hold a little child's hand
I see mothers,
Holding a little child's hand
I see trees, trees,
Blowing in the wind
I see seeds,
Being sown by the wind
It's a cosmic concerto, and it stirs my soul
I see grandmas,
Blowing kisses into a pram
I see grandpas,
Scratching their head in amazement
It's a cosmic concerto, and it stirs my soul
It's a cosmic concerto, and it stirs my soul
Like my old dad said,
Life is people, life is people
In the space of a human face,
There's infinite variation
It's a cosmic concerto, and it stirs my soul
It's a cosmic concerto, and it stirs my soul
Like my old dad said,
Life is people, life is people
In the space of a human face,
There's infinite variation
Life is people, life is people, life is people
Life is people, life is people, life is people
Life is people
Bill Fay