The Flaws are Baked In...

I will hazard the guess that studying Human Beings, and BEING a Human Being gives one some insights on the subject of being Human. Look around. What's the main takeaway? We are not as smart or together as we pretend to be. We all have blind-spots and flaws, and we often lie to ourselves and others. Most of us probably suffer from the Imposter Phenomenon.  We feel like frauds fearing to be called out. Best to seek out our "authentic selves;" being and doing only what is authentic to our own quirky, flawed constitutions, knowing that we "don't really know" everything, sometimes don't know anything, but then deciding to be kind, gentle and humble with ourselves and others. It's probably a lifetime project. We are moving targets tracking moving targets.  Not surprising to find out that the most successful, popular, powerful, beautiful & accomplished amongst us are also supremely fucked up. It just goes with the territory. It turns out that Celebrity, Fame, Money, Power just amplify and cultivate our flaws and bad tendencies. And being poor, without Celebrity, Fame, Money, Power often makes one's existence just a grim, long, hard slog. Being poor in the land of supremely wealthy just knocks you down all across the board. Looking for evidence? Check out the daily headlines.  Really. "Elementary, My Dear Watson." That's not to say that some of us can't rise above the "needing, wanting, grasping." Many do. See the best of us in the Arts, Sciences, and Cultural Studies. We can find alternative ways to live and measure happiness and healthiness, but you know, it ain't easy, and it's a never-ending search and journey. Suffering helps. Helps us find some compassion for ourselves and others; I mean a lesson from The Buddha, easier said than done.

Filter, Pick & Choose...

There are some distinct advantages to "Living in Your Own Private Idaho," you know, cultivating your own interior landscape. That is where your "calm center" is located.  Some of us have a vast and roomy interior space, built upon silence, and a disciplined meditation practice, where we reside, and where we can retreat, when things get weird and dicey. And, you know, in the human realm, things always get weird and dicey.  

Sure in Your Own Private Idaho you have your quirks, obsessions, madnesses, and rabbit holes, that's what makes it your own. But you don't have to obsess and be outraged by what everyone else is being obsessed and outraged about. You can filter, pick and choose. It is in the interior zone where you find and cultivate your "authentic self." No one can mess you there. It is a sanctuary, a retreat, a holy place. Often it's the only place to be.

Ragged, Shiny Beast...

Blazing, glorious sunshine here this morning. I woke up late, had a big blanket over my head. Caught some extra ZZZZ's. Felt good and necessary. Dylan and the Band are on the CD player this morning. The Basement Tapes (Bootleg Version - RAW).  Dylan is just such a special brew. If you are into his music, there is nothing that compares. Truly.

I love the tracks from the basement, they were never really intended to see the light of day, but they are magnificent, funny, wild, unkempt; Dylan's songwriting creativity was over-flowing, and the Band were there giving their all just for themselves. Amazing work. So inspiring, joyful and well, yes, hopeful.

This is the line that sticks out this morning, feeling good, but even before I turn to the headlines of the day, this line, a ragged, shiny beast calls to me: "It's a wicked life, but what the hell, everybody's got to eat." - B. Dylan

Jiving with It...

This morning, finally, mercifully, the sun breaks across the Heartland. It has been pretty much a long week of the "cold, gray slog." We humans are such transparent, easily-influenced creatures, you know, like weather-vanes?

We reflect and amplify the weather. Everything is different this morning, everything is suffused with light. It really does seem like a new day, a new world, new possibilities, a new human being at the keyboard.  You know, I think of that freaking "Hallmark Card-like" cliche: "This is the first day of the rest of your life."

Hah. Exactly. Let's just say I'm jiving with cliche, riding it for all it's worth, in all it's sugar-coated, gloriously sunlit, magnificence.

Do Your Best...

So you let go the wheel, and roll forward. You go with the roll. You decide you won't judge the day or the moment. You will just go with it. Sort of a lightly determined ZEN thing. Keep your eyes peeled. Breathe. You listen to and watch your body light up with a new deep breath. And another one after that one. Breathing is good. Also, keep a clear head. Clarity. It's good. Roll. Forward. Slowly. Carefully. Gracefully. Can you live carefully and gracefully? You will do your best.

Visions of Hell...

You kind of feel like Dante Alighieiri this morning. Conjuring up a series of circles of Hell. Imagining certain wings for certain folks. You hear a story on the radio of young children being murdered and maimed in Ukraine. All this unbearable horror unleashed by one madly delusional, super-disgusting Human Being. Yes. There should be a special dark circle in hell called the Putin Ring of Hell. Dante was a prodigious poet, he could really spin a poetic tale. This morning all I can conjure up is a hard pool of tears, and yes, visions of a righteous hell-scape for the evil-doers.

"Why?"

"Why?" 

That is the question. Always. And usually it just hangs there, over our heads like a big cloud of unknowing...

"Why?"

Strays...

Stray sentences I came across from two wildly different sources this rainy morning  in the dim light of the kitchen sipping coffee with Bob Dylan and the Band's "Basement Tapes" spinning on the box.

"Life... astoundingly short, strange and inexplicable."

"As the Master says: So Be It."

Aye, There's the Rub, Bub...

Is it more than it is, or is it less than it is, or is it just "it is what it is?"  You may ask, "what is this it is you are speaking of?"

Last night, in the middle of a deep, restful sleep (that's a new thing!),  a voice came to me. It wasn't my voice, it was an authoritative, soothing, radio-friendly voice; sure, confident, male.

And the voice said unto me: "The important thing is to see clearly, always."

Hah! Not exactly "Burning Bush Material," but you go with the voices you get. 

That's a pretty good one. Rings true, but, I mean, what the hell do you do with that? What of my flaws, my biases, how do I know whether I am seeing clearly, or not? No answers there. Just, you know, a pocketful of questions.

Aye, there's the rub, Bub...

New WWSP T-shirt - "Crow with Pearls."

My partner and I have a band named whitewolfsonicprincess. It is a creative mission, sort of cult of "vibes." It is a vehicle, a platform and entity that lets us gather with some amazingly creative musicians to "compose" all original music, which we often record, and play out in the world.  One of our fans described our music as "21st Century Druid Music."  Dig!

Our band and creative mission is an all-consuming "flow-activity." A reason to live and to believe. Sometimes we have merchandise too, you know it's all part of being an independent DIY entity. We have a new T-Shirt design! Taking PRE-ORDERS NOW via Bandcamp!  

Be the 1st on your block to own the latest coolness: "Crow with Pearls!" Turn the sound up. The tune is "Dance a Wave," from our last album The Alternate Boot. Enjoy!

Heady Landscape...

There seems to be an outward and an inward journey. Sometimes they run right along with each other. You are in the world, and "watching yourself" in the world. Your interior space connects with the exterior, and  they sort of mirror each other.

Lately the outward journey is quite circumscribed. Navigating smaller and smaller circles. Whereas, the inward journey seems to expand and deepen. There is a bit of a disconnect, or a dislocation. 

Chalk some of it up to the global pandemic: lockdown, isolation. Choosing to go out less, staying home more. You spend more time living in your interior space and less "out there." Lots more reading, listening to music on headphones, ruminating. Head stuff. You are a bit of a stranger in a strange land, and that strange land is inside your own head. A heady landscape, no doubt.

Yes, that Molehill is a Mountain...

Can you make a mountain out of a molehill?

Sure. A small personal problem or event is blown up to massive, earth-shaking proportions.  That's life. That's the Human Thing right there in a nutshell.

Lose a tooth, (see previous post), and you'd think the planet cracked in two. Suddenly you feel like a different person, that every aspect of your existence has changed. The little corner of your mouth has been transformed, instead of nursing a spiky troublemaker, you are nursing what feels like a massive crater, a large fleshy void in furthest territory of your mouth.

There is mystery, a hushed quietness in that void.

Funny. You carry yourself gently. You cultivate silence. You are more careful. You eat less, you talk less, you turn inward. Yikes, I mean it was just a tooth., a poor wreck, a terrible excuse of a tooth.

Still, it's true, everything has changed...

The Dentist: Profound Void...

Can going to the Dentist be a profound experience? 

Yes, well, yesterday I was convinced I was going in for a patch-job, just a quick touch-up on an old wisdom tooth way back in the furthest reaches of my mouth. Nice day, I biked there, about 30 minute ride.

I got in the chair, you know, I love my Dentist, he's a cool guy, no b.s. total pro, so I always take the chair with confidence. He took one look in my mouth a declared: "I have to take it out." I looked up at the ceiling, there are beautiful little cherubs and angels painted up there, pretty nice ceiling, I gulped and said in reply: "Okay! Let's do it."

I was sort of attached to that tooth, and for sure it was attached to me. Had it in my head most of my life. But it was a wreck of a tooth. Filled over the years, many times. A while back the filling fell out, and it's been an empty, edgy, sharp and spiky husk of a tooth. If I checked with my tongue it brought up images of a bomb crater, reminded me of my visit to the Meteor Crater in AZ.  That was a trip from eons ago.

He zapped me with some novocaine, I barely felt the pinch of the needle, and I numbed up right way. Then  he brought out those sophisticated tools: tongs, and pliers. YIKES. He told me I would feel some pressure, and I did, but after a bit of determined rooting around, he expertly extracted that thing and laid it on the tray next to me.

He showed it to me. It was a total lost cause of a tooth.  A nasty old thing, discolored, decayed. It looked like a burned out and beaten up alien being. Even St. Jude, Patron Saint of hopeless cases, and lost causes, couldn't do a thing for that total wreck of a tooth. The blood started to flow from the hole in my mouth, the Dentist wadded up some cotton and I chomped down on it to stem the red tide.  I could feel the new landscape, lots of new empty space in the further reaches of my head. Talk about a clearing.

This morning a bit sore, don't think I can chew anything, maybe just sip liquids and and drink warm soup. I feel empty, distant. Changed. It was only a tooth, and terrible tooth too, but it was mine. Now gone. Just a wound now, hopefully already beginning the process of healing. And you wonder about the marvel of our bodies, how they can absorb a cut, blow, a wound and begin the process of repair almost immediately. I feel a bit "inward" this morning.  A gathering of my all forces and energies. A necessary physical and mental healing.

Yes, going to the Dentist can be a profound experience.  I do think so.  One less tooth in my head, but clearer, cleaner, and well,  really as my Dentist said, that tooth was just a trouble-maker waiting for it's time to create mischief. I feel like I've dropped some baggage that was really doing nothing for me. Now just a memory, a ghost, a chimera of an old, wasted tooth. Goodbye old friend...

To Handle it All...

My long-time companion and I are such sensitive souls. We are like little, very particular birds. Alive, aware, awake to everything. It's a way of living. But it opens us up to all slings and arrows of our constantly churning hurly-burly of events, feelings, vibes.

We also can, unfortunately, hype each other up. We can feel the pain, the suffering of the wider world around us and the suffering of each other and stir it up into a cocktail of sadness, doubt, worry. We are "strange-attractors." We try our best to "keep calm and carry on," but it really is a full-time job, and we can work ourselves up into a frenzy of feeling.

That is why meditation is so important. Breathing deeply. Finding a calm center. Grounding yourself. Taking care, eating well, sleeping well, trying to be impeccable in thought and speech. As Cat Stevens once sang, "Baby, baby it's a Wild World." Yes. Indeed. Our job is to be able to handle it all.

Can't Really Explain It...

Let's just say you had an extraordinary meditation, vision and experience. It was something you consumed and integrated heart, head and soul (see previous post).

You can't really explain it, you don't really know what it means, all you can do is recognize it as a profound experience. You feel that you have changed on a fundamental level.  At the same time, some of the feeling evaporates. That magnificent liberating feeling of transcendence fades in the light of a new day.

You know it was just "pictures in your head," but you wonder why these particular pictures, and how is it possible that it was such a real, overwhelming experience?

Just like anything, add it to the mix of being human. You can't explain it. The mystery lingers. This morning you wonder what Salvador Dali was hoping to convey:

"Corpus Hypercubus is painted in oil on canvas, and its dimensions are 194.3 cm × 123.8 cm (76.5 in x 48.75 in).[4] Consistent with his theory of nuclear mysticism, Dalí uses classical elements along with ideas inspired by mathematics and science. Some noticeably classic features are the drapery of the clothing and the Caravaggesque lighting that theatrically envelops Christ, though like his 1951 painting Christ of Saint John of the Cross, Corpus Hypercubus takes the traditional biblical scene of Christ's Crucifixion and almost completely reinvents it. The union of Christ and the tesseract reflects Dalí's opinion that the seemingly separate and incompatible concepts of science and religion can in fact coexist.[5] Upon completing Corpus Hypercubus, Dalí described his work as "metaphysical, transcendent cubism"."

Yes.  A three-way marriage of Art, Religion and Science. Dig.

A Good Meditation...

It is a personal thing. A "vision," not so much a day-dream, but kind of like a day-dream. Often I meditate, and I do a little creative visualization while I still my body and breathe deeply. Sometimes I sit, sometimes I lay down, sometimes I fold my legs in a Yoga position.  Still flexible after all these years.

Yesterday, after making my appointed rounds, biking, walking and then a fabulous mid-afternoon lunch, and clean-up time (sweeping, mopping, polishing),  in our apartment, I put my headphones on, propped my head on a pillow, and sprawled across the wooden floor in our living-room. Yes. I often meditate with music on my headphones. I own a fabulous pair of  Grado headphones and I attend to the music as if I am performing a religious ritual.

I played two Sigur Ros albums: Ágætis byrjun (1999) & ( ) (2002) while I meditated. Long, meandering, floaty, "spiritual" music. Symphonic, powerful.

Two of my all-time favorite, must-have, must-play-often, no, must-commune-with, albums, no doubt. 

Majestic, atmospheric, moody, ethereal, enthralling, gorgeous. These records always entrance me. No words. Wordless vocalizations, violin-bowed guitar, bass, keyboards, drums, strings, sometimes horns. Just pure sonic bliss. I often fly when I meditate to these records. I lose myself in visions, in the clouds, blue sky, floating high above the earth. Sometimes I see figures, a Golden Buddha, The Chariot, The Hermit, The Magician Tarot cards. Sometimes a raven, an eagle. These visions captivate me, seem so real, more real than any very real lucid dream.

Yesterday, was an extraordinary experience. I saw myself as Salvador Dali's Crucifixion (Corpus Hypercubus)  I inhabited the character; Christ without the blood, the crown of thorns, the guilt, the suffering, a pure more abstract and surreal Christ. I was flying across the planet, over land, over ocean, in the clouds. I sometimes faced up, looking at the pure blue sky, and then sometimes I faced downward looking at the cities, oceans, mountains, trees, all the little scurrying people. I was the figure on the cross. And the cross was like a space vehicle. It was outfitted with some kind of silent engine, and it propelled me around our little blue planet. I circumnavigated the globe a few times. Breath-taking. Weird. Wild. So liberating, free-ing, powerful and humbling. And unexpected. Astonishing. 

Yes, indeed, that was a good meditation. 

Conjure & Impose...

Maybe it's to be expected. I got a degree in Psychology, so I see the long, winding road of Human Drama as a psychological thriller. I look at the events of the day, or the unrolling of events that we call History, and I am left with the primary, fundamental question: WHAT the fuck WERE THEY THINKING?

Trying to parse what is going on in Human Being's heads at any one time. Not easy. People are tricky. You know, there are all these competing forces, physical, economic, political, imaginary!

My "minor" was in Literature. So I also sometimes see everything through a novelist's or short story writer's lens too. Throw in all that poetry I read and wrote, and well, everything also seems like a long, prose-poem that sometimes rhymes.  

Still though, sipping coffee this a.m. the thought-bubble rises up in my head, it's all in our heads. The madness, the power, the glory, the idiocy, the horror, the beauty. We conjure and then impose...

We are All Sinners...

The flaw in human nature...

I am post-Catholic, but some of that Original Sin talk sort of resonates with me all these many years later. You know, if you think of Original Sin as a poetic metaphor; the little burbling babies, the tiny Human Beings in their swaddling clothes, stained with a dark mark on their souls at birth, it all sort of rings true. Just look at the daily headlines.

Funny, you would think it would be an easy leap to go from a literal reading of the Bible and all the Catholic teachings to a Poetic and Psychological reading of the key texts, but you know, it took lots of time, first fighting the literal indoctrination, then to a full-out rejection of all of my Catholic upbringing,  finally to a peaceful coexistence where I am free to discover and uncover any wisdom from pretty much any source, including all the major religions, and you know, even Pop Culture and the minor cults?

What are Human Beings capable of? Great Beauty & Great Horror. Maybe we have to overcome our nature, our biases, our biology? Maybe we have to learn to discipline ourselves, to not be totally selfish, egomaniacal assholes. We don't need God or Jesus, or the fear of Hell to get our shit together, we can do this on our own, looking for examples in the Human Herd.

We are biological entities, basically animals, "smart, tricky monkeys" with big aspirations and huge blind-spots. Often it seems Humans will lie, steal, cheat, rape, murder, pillage, we do pretty much anything as long as we think they can get away with it.

Human Beings will often do what they can, not what they should. But at the same time, don't we all have a sense of Goodness, Kindness, Grace and Well-Being?  We don't need a God to know The Good.

Of course, there are the "Better Angels," those examples of Human Beings who do the right thing, who suffer the slings and arrows and emerge more compassionate, more empathetic, more willing to Love and do Good. You know, "Do-Gooders."

We turn our lonely eyes to the Do-Gooders, knowing that those folks are just flawed Human Beings too. We have to take everything with a grain of salt. Hope for the Best, knowing that we are all Sinners too.

"More Pricks than Kicks." - S. Beckett

There is something to be said for just getting on with it. You know, hitching up your pants, getting your shit together and carrying on. As Samuel Beckett once said, facing the day and the world may bring "More Pricks than Kicks," but, no doubt, you can endure the pricks to get to the kicks if you just put your mind to it.

My friend's doctor recently explained: "Shit Happens." Yep. That covers a lot of territory, and pretty much sums things up. Still, we must endure, carry on, keep our eyes on the ball; always onto the next thing. I mean, fuck, why not. Yes, the torpedoes will come, but you know,  shite, "Damn the Torpedoes!"

Striding Forth...

Every morning, balancing on the thin edge of a razor. Stepping gently into the kitchen to flick on the pre-prepared coffeemaker. An inhalation of breath. Those moments before the brew starts flowing,  emerging from the nightly "cloud of unknowing," two competing thoughts, duking it out on the playground of my mind.

"Everything is going to be alright." vs. "We are royally screwed."

Contending forces: the light vs. the dark, optimistic vs pessimistic.

If the coffee is really good, and does it's usual morning magic, both thoughts can co-exist freely inside my head. That's is wisdom, intelligence, two contradictory thoughts arm in arm, hand in hand, striding forth into the new day. No, not twisted, flexible...

Thanks for the Memories...

Burdened by memories...

Maybe that is why folks write memoirs? 

It is a process of unburdening. I think of Mary Karr and her death-defying memoir "The Liar's Club." I think of Patti Smith's beautifully fabulous "Just Kids." I am currently re-reading Jim Carroll's (Catholic Boy), stark, hilarious diaries, from the 60's and 70's. 

There is something about a "voice," a writer writing about experiences, directly. The human thing rendered sentence by sentence. Imagining and re-imagining. You learn about fallibility, and hopes and dreams, and shattered lives, and wrong turns and dark shit. And life. The living of a life.

You are left with the writing. Words on a page. The book in your hands. And there is hope there. Hope in the holding and the telling  and the reading of the tale.

Memoir...

Write a memoir?

I think about the long, winding road. The events of my life. Do I delve into the crazy, stupid shit I did as young person? Do I recount my failures, my successes? Not sure I want to wade into the past.

BTW - Did I have any successes?

Oh yeah, there was that Little League game, I was pitching, we were trailing by a run, and I hit a Grand Slam home run to win the game. It was accidental, no doubt. I remember running the bases, rounding third, heading home, and the coach and the whole team was at home plate, cheering and whooping it up. I tried my best to be cool, to not crack a smile, acting like it was no big deal, but I couldn't, I broke into a big grin and gave my body up to the high-fives, hugs and backslaps.

That was a little success right there. 

So, anyway, I probably won't be writing a memoir. I just don't really want to go back there, sift through the years. What's the point?

Safe to say, my memoir would be short, concise, no fluff:

That was then, this is now...

A Quiet Place...

Noise. Lots of noise. Best to tune out the noise. Find a quiet place. Breathe. Seek a bit of a "time-out," from the hubbub and the hurly-burly. We live in the 24/7 echo-chamber, the always on Tower of Babel channel. You can lose your head to the whirlwinds. Find a bit of shelter from the storm. A quiet place. Yes.

Inherent Flaws...

"So much trouble in the World." - Bob Marley

True then, true now. I think there is always a War. Always. Never-ending. Always, somewhere on this Little Blue Planet. Human Beings are an "aggressive" species. And most assuredly, not a smart as we think we are. Oh yeah, and we are pretty damn selfish too. Not so self-reflective. Combine those inherent flaws and you get lots of turmoil and Hurly-Burly. The Human Condition.

There are some, a few, who rise above the common traits, those who learn patience, discipline, humility, silence, Love, Charity, good vibes. Altruism anyone? They are good examples, folks we can all try to model ourselves after.

When bad shit goes down, it reflects badly on all of us as a species.  Yes, there is a bit of that "collective guilt" in world events. Somehow we are all complicit. We can and must do better. Human Beings, get your shit together...

A New Day...

A new day. Maybe sort of like the last one, but decidedly, not the same day at all. As Bukowski once wrote: "The days run away like wild horses." Yep. Moments, fleeting, flying away, out of our grasp like little sparks of lightening.

So, yeah, new day. Cold, cloudy, windy, stormy. Nothing like yesterday. There is a continuity, but it is really all in my head, and in my body. I carry the days, I carry and embody the past. It is a heavy load. Sort of a burden. 

Memory. Remembering.  Trying my best to be clear, in the now. Not easy.

Being in Motion, Always...

Up early, with the Light. Yes. I am enamored with the Light. I see it and feel it and think about it as a Spirit, an Energy, a God-like phenomena. I look out the window of the present place I am staying, (you know, another chapter in my ever-evolving itinerant existence) and I see the roof & chimney of the home across the street glowing. A fiery orange glow. A reflection of a new-born Sun. The roof and bricks look old, last century old, (probably not), and supremely, wondrously alive.  

Another day, another room, another house, another furry animal adventure, another gig. What a weird "job." What a weird existence.

Happy to make it to another morning. Waking up in always changing environs is sort of a daily lesson in the ever-evolving nature of our world. Everything is a moving target on a constantly rotating planet. We are all moving targets too. It takes a bit of discipline to "be here now," but that is the task before us.

Maybe the moving, the always be moving, being in motion, always, is the key to the game? And the Light, don't forget to be Alive, Aware and Awake to the Light all around us.

Dichotomies We Live With Every Day...

You stare into the Black Abyss. 

You think the Universe is filled with a Bottomless Black.

You stare into the Light (be careful "Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind")

You think the Universe is filled with Blazing Light.

Contending Forces:

Light vs. Dark

Good vs. Bad

Love vs. Hate

Peace vs. War

We, of course, live with these dichotomies every moment of every day.

War is raging in Ukraine; the Jaws of a Man-Made Hell are open wide.

Here in the Heartland of USA it is sunny & peaceful. A bit of Heaven on Earth.

Doesn't seem fair. 

Such suffering for some, such peace & calm for others. You wonder what it's all about.

It is the way of the world. Has been since the beginning. Probably will be until the end. 

We are surrounded by darkness, we lean to the light, and hope for better days ahead for all.

Crimes Against Humanity...

All the greatest Crimes Against Humanity come from Humanity. That is fucking fact for you. The worst shit you can imagine comes from our Fellow Human Beings. Makes one take pause, gasp for the next breath.

If there is Evil in the World, it resides in the Human Heart. Same with Good. Seems we have a Demon on one shoulder, and an Angel on another. I know we all want to blame forces outside of us, Devils and Gods in some grand disembodied realm playing chess, but that is lame. It's us. It is all on us. The battlefield is in our own hearts & heads.

We watch The Horror unfold in Ukraine, and we think Monsters must have unleased this cruel violence, unconscionable death and mindless destruction. But, no, it is one megalomaniacal Human Being who has unleashed this latest Horror. Although, don't forget this one man has enablers, supporters, and co-conspirators all over the planet. 

Unimaginable. We must imagine it. We are all implicated. I suppose it is that Existentialist thing. 

What to do? Feeling pretty helpless. Hoping, praying, looking to the light. If you listen to the Wise, Holy Ones, it is essential to live Mindfully, to be kind and generous, always, to try to set an example of Right Thought, and Right Action in everything you do. We are just one drop in the ocean, but, if you go with that mystical notion, we are the ocean too!

Yes, seems sort of paltry in the face of The Horror, but that's also the very Human Truth we must live with. The limits of being Human in a vast Sea of Humanity! 

Reality. What is it Good for?

Reality...

What is it good for? Sometimes it is difficult to be in the real world, but, you know, that is where we live. The place where things are as they actually exist.  The Holy Ones, the Wise Ones tell us to be mindful, to be present, to live in the moment.  You know the real moment, all the moments, one rushing on after another. That is where we live, it is where all the shit comes down, where the Good, the Bad and the Ugly contend.

I mean, nothing wrong with dreaming, with cultivating your imagination, but the real is real, it takes discipline and clarity to the see the world as it is, and not just how you want it to be.

Best to be there in the real in all it's splendor; alive, aware, awake, no matter how difficult, or disturbing. It is where the beauty and wonder resides too. Seems simple, almost simple-minded. But there it is. Breathe. Open your eyes, your head, your heart. Let it all in, let it all come down.

Clarifying Moment...

Just pay attention. Who in the USA is siding with Putin, a murderous thug at war with a civilized world? Note the inhumanity of the folks doing Putin's dirty work in the media and in the political sphere.

Remember. Do not forget. 

This is a clarifying moment in time. The claws and fangs and bad blood are all being revealed. Bombs are dropping, innocent people are dying. We are all implicated. This is no longer political theater, this is a hard, cold reality. It is our world. At war. 

So sad. But we must face it all with a fierce compassion. Clear-headed. Time to cleanse the soul. Pay attention. Be aware, alive, awake.  There are the soul-eaters amongst us. They are revealing themselves in all their depravity.  Some folks have made a fortune feeding on disinformation, using it to destroy Democracy from the inside. Be sure to take note of the comments of President #45 and his slime-ball supporters, and his cable news & social media mouth-pieces. Who is amplifying Russian propaganda for profit?

This is no longer just a show, not just political performance art. It is a horror-show with real devastation, and blood and death. Pay attention.

Horror-Show...

Heart-breaking. Putin's horrible, death-dealing, soul-killing attack on Ukraine is a  crime against Humanity, it is an attack on all of us, on anyone of us who aspires to live a happy, free, fulfilling life on the planet.

War is always a horror-show. 

It is excruciating to see a nation suffer as one Megalomaniacal Creep tries to impose his will on a free nation of 41 million human beings.

Look upon the mayhem and weep. Weep for humanity. Weep for the children, the mothers, the fathers, for those fleeing, and those staying, and those standing against a brutal onslaught.

Putin must fail... 

We should all hope for the Dictator to fall, to be brought to some kind of Justice. One hopes and prays there are folks in Russia who will not let this continue.

Searing, Hard-Earned, Reality...

There were the American Putin sympathizers and apologists. They included our former President (#45) and both left & right wingers yapping away: air pollution. It always seemed so out of tune, so wrong-headed, so anti-Democratic, and so anti-West, and frankly anti-American. Of course, here in USA, we value Freedom of Speech, so the price we pay is that we get to hear lots of stupidity and noise, and loud, out and out, counter-productive bullshit on the airwaves, in the inter-tubes, and down the block.

The over-riding idea in a Free Democracy, ideas are aired, and the best ideas and opinions rise to the top, we hope the best, smartest ideas compel and convince enquiring minds. Of course it doesn't always work that way. Case in point #45.

Anyway, bombs are falling, tanks are rolling, people are dying. It focuses and clarifies. What is important? What is worth living for? What is worth fighting for? Who is on the right side of History? Who are the collaborators, who are the apologists and sympathizers of murder, invasion, depravity, raw, unleashed power?

Turns out Putin isn't a cold, calculating chess player, he is a madman, a bully, a thug, delusional, trying to remake a world that no longer exists.  I heard the head of the Ukraine Orthodox church on the radio call Putin the Anti-Christ. Nice. This is not really new news. Many of us have known for a long time that Putin is poison to the West, to Freedom, to Democracy, to a Free Press, to Peace. So now, a searing, hard-earned, clarity. 

The West unites. Most of the world recoils from the horror. Those apologists and sympathizers squirm and tie themselves up like pretzels pretending they did not say what they so fervently said. Remember how #45 bowed and scraped before Putin?  Let us not forget who sided and collaborated with the Dictator before the storm.

Let us Hope and Pray that the invasion falters, Putin falls, and a new renewed world heals and recommits to Peace, Love and Understanding. It's the only way forward, naysayers be damned.

Free-Range Blogging is Back!

Yes. Back to "normal" blogging. Whatever that means. Primarily I can now type in the body of a post, and type with all my fingers.  Liberation from bad, old tech.

Thinking of FREEDOM and DEMOCRACY today. Not to be messed with, not to be taken lightly, or for granted. Feeling great sympathy for the people of Ukraine, those folks heroically standing against a dastardly, barbaric invasion. 

It is Putin's Folly. The worms of depravity must have infiltrated Putin's soggy brain. 

"Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely." 

We are all Ukrainians today.

Madman Theory. I was reluctant to go with it, seems reductive, but then it does explain things. Power corrupts!

We seek clarity, eyes on the real, but often confronted with the fake, the virtual, the murk, shades of gray. Lean to the light, Dear Pilgrim! ,

"These are the days of miracles and wonder. Don't cry Baby, don't cry." - Paul Simon via Peter Gabriel

Reading reports of fresh new WAR in Europe, listening to U2 singing of Peace and Love. The Duality of the Human Thing.

A half-moon-shaped cut on my forehead; soon to be a scar, horn, third-eye, or Mark of Cain?

The Gods; they require beseeching, praying, sacrifices, they need praise and attention. The Demons; quiet, patient, content, whisper in your ear, "How can I help you Little Chicken?" .

A blazing, glorious ball of fire rises above a partially-frozen lake. The blood rises too, and sunny thoughts flood the brain of a humble pilgrim! Think: photosynthesis!

Love may be the answer, but laughter is the key to the kingdom. Genuine, well-earned, self-directed, spiced with tears of deep sadness.

Meditations/Visualizations - the Jesuits recommend getting in a boat with Jesus. But he is such a Gloomy Gus. How about getting in a boat with a willow tree, a river, a Golden Buddha, or Bunny Wailer?

The self-inflicted wounds are the worst. Most of our wounds are self-inflicted. Think: freak accident, the sabetuer!

When the weird is on the ascendant, and no doubt, dear pilgrim, times are weird indeed, there really is only one good strategy: ride the weird for all its worth. Go forth weirdly!

Deep-freeze in the heartland. Coffee is strong, music on the box. Another day. Expect to walk in little circles, leaning to the light.

Stripped to the existential. Attend to beauty in nature, art, music, poetry, film and literature. That is the good life. Love truly is the answer.

I am reduced to one finger tapping into the void. Forces have conspired to treat me to a new dawn. Today's word: SURRENDER!

I am hand-cuffed with old, out of date tech. Using an obscure browser, ancient iPad from an undisclosed location. Can only type "headlines" for the next 8 days. The will to write is strong. Expect short, cryptic

THEDDDDDDDDD

This is a test.

YES

Little Explosions...

I am reading a book, a collection of philosophical essays by Iris Murdoch.  It is a slim volume published in 1970. At first I was having difficulty tracking with it, even though it is well-written, the language is plain and clear. Maybe "too much light makes the baby go blind?" I found myself reading certain passages over and over trying to penetrate the clouds swirling in my muddled head.

Towards the end of the book, little explosions have been going off everywhere. This is my book, my language, where I am, where I live. It speaks directly to me. So many powerful insights small and large. So much wisdom, plain as day, plain as a rock garden, a tree, rushing river.

It is an old book. You would think it would be out-dated. Nope. This book is totally alive today, this moment. Astonishing. Illuminating. Everything. Good. Yes, the sovereignty of good!

The River...

Thinking about the river. Or maybe about "the river."

You can't push the river. You can jump in and float. You can grab a piece of driftwood, or build a raft, or buy a canoe and ride that thing. You can make it an adventure and shoot the rapids.

Sometimes it makes sense to sit on the shore and just watch that thing. As Dylan once sang: "Watching the River Flow."

The river will do what the river does, it will go where it goes. Maybe best to take a lesson. Flow. Flow like the river. And let it all just go.

Cosmic Vibes...

Yes, an intense conversation yesterday with a close band member. We talked about how much music means to us: the listening to it, and the playing of it. We both agreed that early in our lives, since we were young, snot-nosed kids, music has been a major kick, inspirer, & guiding light. Might sound overblown, but both us believe music has been our primary spiritual path for most our lives. Music is a way, a calling, a faith, a religion, a mission, a reason to believe, and a reason to live. It's all about those cosmic vibrations wafting over us and thru us. Imagine being in a rehearsal room with a fabulous collection of collaborators, all working together, listening, responding, giving their all to a collective energy. Transformative. Life-changing, life-affirming. The best stuff, no doubt.

Folks in the Room...

The folks in the room. The souls in the room. The human beings in the room. The spirits in the room. The collective energy in the room.

Everything counts. Everything. 

Open the door; beckon, invite, congregate with a select group of beings. Open your arms, open your head & heart.

Collect & accumulate the energy. Create together. Create something bigger and beyond the ideas of the folks in the room, bigger and beyond the hopes & dreams of the folks in the room.

Experience the power, the glory, the beauty. Take in the focused discipline of a group of individuals; unique, extraordinary, alive and attentive to each moment.

Magnificent. To be one of the folks in the room a great honor and a life mission.  You know, a practice, a form of worship, a calling.  

Best Game...

Living in the real. Living in truth. The real and the true can be hard, unforgiving, maybe not what you want, but what you must  rise up, meet & deal with. I do think living in the real and in truth is rewarding, and it is the best game in town. There is a clarity there. You realize you have to do what you have to do, but, it is not all about you and that's okay, maybe even magnificent.

Trust Yourself?

 Intuition - "the power or faculty of attaining to direct knowledge or cognition without evident rational thought and inference."

Intuition. Is it a super-power or a trap?

Do you always trust your intuition, or are you sometimes suspicious of it? I ask because without going into explicit detail (protecting the guilty and the innocent), I have been dealing with a situation and a character who has been a bane of my existence in small ways and large. From the get-go, I "knew" something was wrong, I sensed it, but ignored it, and thought I could work around it. And I welcomed this character into the inner sanctum.

Yesterday it came to fruition. Of course, my first initial intuition (think of Allen Ginsberg's "first thought, best thought"),  many months ago was totally spot on. The character totally revealed himself. It is totally liberating to be proven correct. At the same time, I kick myself. "WTF was I thinking?" 

I let my rational thought lead me astray. Second-guessing is a slippery slope. I outsmarted myself. Not for first time. Sometimes you really should trust yourself, follow your gut instinct, you know, bypass your analyzer, disable your "rational calculating machine." Rationality has it's limits too.

 Another day, another lesson. Yikes.

Sand...

Castles made of sand. Right. Kind of an apt metaphor. The maker of the castle is made of sand too. We can gather and build, shape, design, but it is all temporary; both the builder and the built. Timelines vary. Tick, tick, tick. 

No sense in fighting, we must "go with the flow" of things, and find a relaxed ease with the passage of time. Time is another one of those odd concepts, does it really exist? You can feel the passage of time in your bones, you can see it in the cycles of nature. Does the ticking add up to a life?

Turn to Mindfulness...

Two posts ago (see previous) I was dealing with an Angry Spirit...

Here is the late, great Thich Hhat Hanh on "mindfulness as a practical antidote to anger" ...

"The individual has to wake up to the fact that violence cannot end violence; that only understanding and compassion can neutralize violence, because with the practice of loving speech and compassionate listening we can begin to understand people and help people to remove the wrong perceptions in them, because these wrong perceptions are at the foundation of their anger, their fear, their violence, their hate.

We have to remain human in order to be able to understand and to be compassionate. You have the right to be angry, but you don’t have the right not to practice in order to transform your anger… When you notice that anger is coming up in you, you have to practice mindful breathing in order to generate the energy of mindfulness, in order to recognize your anger and embrace it tenderly so that you can bring relief into you and not to act and to say things… that can be destructive. And doing so, you can look deeply into the nature of your anger and know where it has come from." - Tich Hhat Hanh

Thin Razor...

Being here now. Alive in the moment. Not as easy as you think. There is the long and winding road we call THE PAST, and the misty, unformed mirage called THE FUTURE. We are perched on the thin razor between, the slim light of this moment right now. There's a quiet, insistent... tick, tick, tick... it appears and disappears, ungraspable. It's the bomb of living. Anything can happen here. Inhale it. Now. No, I mean right now. This... this... this... this... mo... ment...

Hi-Jacked By an Angry Spirit...

Do you believe in Spirits? Angry, Loving, Creative, Fun, Deadly, Life-Giving, Energizing, Depressing, etc?

I think I do.

The last few days it seemed that my body & mind were hi-jacked by an Angry Spirit. I think, as of this this a.m. it was all just an accumulation of a mountain of feelings.

Havoc.

Chaos.

Depression.

Hopelessness.

Helplessness.

Stupidities.

Idiocies.

You know, a feeling that "the center will not hold." A feeling that everything is careening out of control. 

So not me. So unlike me. But these feelings were circulating and animating me. I carried a heaviness, a dullness, a raging, aching angriness that seemed to have no bounds. 

All that has lifted. This morning, while making my morning coffee I actually said to myself: "An Angry Spirit overtook me!" I am back. Maybe it's a tentative thing? Emerging from the darkness to the light? 

Who knows? Funny. In my email inbox this morning I find this from a good friend. I am not big into Astrology. But the friend who sent this to me follows Chani Nicholas religiously, and frequently shares pearls of wisdom with me. I do enjoy the imagery, the symbols, the myths, the psychological insights. You know you find the wisdom where you can. Sometimes it comes from the strangest, most unexpected places.

A Note from Chani on this Venus Retrograde "What I’ve come to understand through this latest Venus retrograde is that all aspects of myself are restorable if I take a trip to visit them and acknowledge all they’ve tried to do to keep me from harm. All parts of myself want to be known. All my monsters really want is to be heroines. However, developing a relationship with my inner Ninshubur and God of wisdom — the Self that knows what to do when these other parts have overcome me — is key to not being consumed. Attuning ourselves to our own mysterious alchemical transformations in order to understand, grapple with, and put to use our power is a must in the land of self-development. It’s that or be so enmeshed with these inner selves, these young fearful child selves, that we’re not capable of overcoming our own obstacles (usually ourselves). This dirty work of parsing out facts from fiction is how we eventually come to offer our most valuable gifts to the collective. We don’t have to suffer for our art, but we can’t leave out the parts of ourselves that have. This work is grueling. It’s repetitive. It demands rituals, in most cases. It required a pandemic for me, maybe for you too, to do the work at this level. A once in a lifetime opportunity to put our ear to the ground of our lives and tend to all that awaits us there: meat hooks and moaning ghosts in need of a grief doula, a helper, and a God of wisdom."  - Chani Nicholas

Bye Bye Spotify!

You may think that fin belongs to a Cadillac. Nope, that's Spotify! It's crashing baby, riding that disinformation pipeline into the freaking ground! Hah! You go Neil Young - Reprise Records! 

Yes. This an easy call for me personally, for our band and our music too. Spotify is sort of a blight on the music industry, especially for artists, basically pennies for streams, just not equitable. On the one hand, you think it's cool to be on a platform that has a global reach, but on the other, you realize you give up control to a app and company that truly devalues music and the artists who create it.

We are pulling all of our music off of Spotify in solidarity with Neil Young, Nils Lofgren, Joni Mitchell and many more.  It feels good to self-de-platform. Why? Spotify has chosen to let Joe Rogan's podcast spread Covid Vax Disinformation across the planet for $. 

Disgusting. Un-cool. A poor excuse of a business model, spreading disinformation, ignorance and disease. Bye, bye Spotify!

Zen is My Bag...

 

"The Japanese word for circle is enso. It is a universal expression of wholeness that lives deep in our beings. The making of a circle with one brushstroke is a calligraphic practice of bringing that wholeness forth, through the gesture of the body, into form on the page. I offer this particular enso as a symbol of all that is gathered and united within us - alive, open ended and true." - Barbara Bash, February 2018

Yes. Without effort: "Alive, open ended and true."

Also: Yin & Yang - Dark in light, light in dark. Symbols to live by...

Wisdom in a nutshell...

Bright, Shiny, Positive...

Weighty things in my head. Then the lightness. 

Snowflakes falling this morning. I sip a coffee, feel the adrenaline rush. There is the hush of falling snow. Whiteness covers everything: streets, sidewalks, yards, parks. I must go out there a bit later this morning. Steel myself for the march thru snow, ice and cold. The Winter Slog. 

Another day. 

Keeping my head in the game. What with the extreme weather, and the still surging virus, my life has gotten quite, circumscribed. A tiny circle of existence. I fill that tiny bubble with everything I can muster: life, love, laughter, music, poetry, great literature, fabulous, healthy food. I do my best to lean to the light; keep myself bright, shiny and positive. It's the only way I know how to live.

"Everything is Holy, Even the Unholy..."

You know when we speak of "sacred texts" (see previous post), we are speaking of texts written by Human Beings. Bible, Koran, Bhagavad Gita, Torah, the Book of Mormon, the Sayings of Buddha etc. All of those "sacred works" are conjured up from the fevered brains of Human Beings. Literary works in the same category as "Moby Dick," "Catch-22", "On the Road," "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," "The Collected Works of William Shakespeare," "The Collected Works of William Blake," "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance," the novels of Faulkner, the short stories of Hemingway, Poems by Byron, Keats & Shelley, "The Definitive Songbook of Bob Dylan," you know, etc.

It is all so obvious. But it is amazing how folks will tend to forget that everything Holy and Sacred has been written down and conjured up by very flawed, fallible, complicated, contradictory, bifurcated, tricky Human Beings. When someone starts telling you about God, and what God thinks, remember, those folks are speaking about themselves, they are projecting their inner maelstrom, revealing their deep-seated desires, hopes, fears, madnesses, worries, doubts, etc.  It is so obvious, and true.

The Transcendent Power of Human Imagination...

I was steeped in Catholicism when I was a Wee Lad. Those early formative years were gilded with lots of Bible, God, Lucifer, Jesus, Sin, Guilt, Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, Limbo, Communion, Confirmation, Confession, Prayer, Kneeling and Beseeching the Lord. No denying all of that had a major impact on my squishy new brain. I think it was all sort of "accidental," both my parents went to Catholic grade school too, and I think they just thought going to Catholic grade school would be good for me, it would keep me on the straight and narrow. I did learn how to read and write and found out I was terrible with numbers. Still, the best thing that came out of all that rigamarole, I learned to love reading books, which later led me in another direction.

I never quite bought the whole Religion thing. It all seemed like grand theater, definitely engaging, but also pretty implausible. One of the Nuns, dressed in her Darth Vader costume convinced me that Heaven was not for me, I was a lost, stupid, recalcitrant, sort of lazy, and dreamy kid on a fast track to Hell. I was resigned to the flames, alienated, and, I basically rejected the whole she-bang. If Heaven wasn't going to have me, I wasn't going to have Heaven. They were selling Fear and Repentance. I wasn't buying. I think now: "You go kid!" I thought Jesus got a raw deal, a pretty cool guy who got in a little too deep, and ended up being treated very badly, but that roll away the stone, rising from the dead thing seemed like a major stretch. There were better fairy tales to be told.

For years I rebelled against all that shite. And then, one day I had the realization that my Rebellion was also a blind alley. I dropped the Rebellion and Embraced the Theater. Even today I look back fondly on the Spectacle of it all; the Incense, the Pomp and Ceremony, the long robes, the Golden Tabernacle, the Communion Wafer, the Magic of the Bread & Wine, the Blood, the Cross, the Suffering, the Holy Ghost, Jesus washing the feet of Prostitutes, Walking on Water, Raising the Dead. Good stuff. The best lessons that still stick with me to this day? The Golden Rule. Also "There but for the Grace of God, go I..."  and, LOVE, HUMILITY, KINDNESS.

I would say I am free of the Dogma, no longer a pissed-off ex-Catholic. I realize now all of that Church stuff fed my IMAGINATION. I realize, of course, GOD did not create Humans, Humans created God, Devil, Heaven and Hell. Luckily, later I discovered other voices and characters that were probably even more influential than Jesus, Moses, the Virgin Mary, & the Holy Ghost, I am thinking of characters & voices like William Blake, William Shakespeare, J.R. Tolkien, Mark Twain, Robert Louis Stevenson, Herman Melville, Jack Kerouac, Mad Magazine, Picasso, Da Vinci, Albert Einstein, Carl Sagan, Sex, Drugs, R&R, Bob Dylan, Patti Smith, Kurt Vonnegut, Joseph Heller, The Beatles, The Who, the Stones, The Grateful Dead, Led Zeppelin, Aleister Crowley, The Tarot, ZEN, Meditation, Dalai Lama. I filled my head with alternate takes on Life, Love, Humanity, Spirituality, Intelligence, all much more compelling and persuasive.

I now know all that Religious Mumbo-Jumbo is pretty good imaginative mulch. It fed my mind, opened the door to Spirituality & Magic, the Transcendent Power of the Human Imagination.  I think of William Blake's great work: "The Marriage of Heaven & Hell", sort the anti-Bible, and a ripping good read, and I realize that phrase "Marriage of Heaven & Hell" is an excellent description of the Human Condition. We have conjured Gods and Demons to explain ourselves to ourselves. We are the marriage of good and evil. Angel on one shoulder, Devil on the other (like in that great Heckle & Jeckle cartoon). These are all imaginative creations that help us explain the unexplainable nature of the Universe and being alive in the midst of the crazy-ass being Human thing.

Conundrums & Clouds...

Conundrum - "an intricate problem." You know, like living.

You find yourself thinking, "I must lose myself, in order to find myself." AND THEN, I think "My self is pretty much an illusion, right?"

Right. 

We are left to wrestle with vaporous, disappearing clouds. "I only know what I don't know, you know?!" 

It seems that the most important things in our lives are invisible, they disappear under scrutiny, there is a light and dark mystery floating in the air, clouding our eyes and heads.  You aspire to "clear-seeing," and you come to the "cloud of unknowing."  

That's the way of an unclouded mind; clouds.

Getting on with It...

Monday rolls around and it's all about "getting on with it." Hopefully, you are well-rested. Hopefully, the wild, crazy-ass dreams you had last night weren't too disturbing, or dislocating, instead, maybe all that strange hubbub was a bit cleansing. Time to meet and greet the day. Time to kick into action. Time to do all that things that must be done. And, WTF, might as well try to do the doing as well as you can. Try to be perfect in thought and action. That's a a good challenge right there. No time to ask "Why?" Just rise to the challenges and tasks of the day, put your head down, put your nose to the grindstone, put one foot in front of another and get your ass moving. Maybe, if you must ask a question, since you are a questioning kind of person, maybe, instead of asking "Why," you ask, "Why not?" Leave it open-ended, and apply yourself, completely, fully to whatever you face. Face it. Yes. Sure.

A Gift of Winter...

Snowbound.  A snow day in the heartland. Socked in with a new coat of snow. Luckily, I have no appointed rounds. I can stay in, hunker down, look for indoor diversions. Magnificent. I am happy that circumstances conspired this way. It wasn't planned, it just happened. I expect a fabulous day of "goofing off," which frankly was my major in College, even if the diploma says otherwise. I imagine an inward journey today. I am ok with that, no more than ok, I am over-joyed! A gift of winter. Thank you winter.

"This Body is Not Me..."

Oh... to make "old bones," with beauty, grace, honor and love...

Thích Nhất Hạnh (/ˈtɪk ˈnjʌt ˈhʌn/; Vietnamese: [tʰǐk̟ ɲə̌t hâjŋ̟ˀ] born as Nguyễn Đình Lang and later known by the name Nguyễn Xuân Bảo;[2] 11 October 1926 – 22 January 2022) was a Vietnamese Thiền Buddhist monk, peace activist, and founder of the Plum Village Tradition, historically recognized as the main inspiration for engaged Buddhism.[3]

Meeting the Day...

Petty (see previous post), or not, we just have to get on with it. Life rolls on. With us, or without us. Best to put our hearts and minds to the next essential task. Maybe the task isn't essential to anyone but us, that big looming Universe is onto other things, but our own tiny essential-ness must be enough. You think, "seize the day," or "pluck the day," but often you are just really "meeting the day." The day will seize or pluck you. Best to ride the wave, and see where it takes you.  It may be a "petty sea," but, you know, damn the torpedoes of pettiness. Onward, upward, one breath at a time.

All Things Petty...

Petty shit. As in not very serious or important shit. Trivial. Let's not go there. I mean, how much of our lives are filled to the brim with petty shit? Not great and consequential things, but little, annoying tasks and details. I refuse to do the accounting, but in the pyramid of life, all things petty unfortunately features quite prominently. Somehow we need to be here now, even in the midst of all things petty. These are the moments of our lives. Every moment counts. Even that mountain of petty piddling moments. Yikes.

Creating...

Bob Dylan said it in an interview, but I believe he was actually quoting George Bernard Shaw  (we  haven't forgotten you G.B.S.): "Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself."

The Theme this Morning: Quality!

I am staying at a place where "everything is better." I am the Caretaker. It's not Heaven, just a really, really nice, supremely lavish home with all the amenities. It's sort of like my own place, but so much better. It reminds me that being wealthy in America really is the thing. No doubt. Great country for those who have lots of scratch to burn and good taste in the spending.

I am thinking about QUALITY this morning. I am surrounded by things of quality. Quality is a big, philosophical subject in "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance." That is one heady tome. I think it's about time I picked it up again and delved back in. Who knows, maybe more of it would stick this time around? I first read it when I was hitching across USA, late 70's. A backpack, $100 in my shoe, a change of clothes, tooth-brush, and Robert Pirsig's book.

From my perspective now, I think I must have been totally mad, reckless, stupid, and unknowing. Lots of angst, raging hormones, risky behavior, stoked with Kerouac and Ginsberg and Dylan and dreams of adventure and romance with the road. Amazing I didn't meet a bad end.

Robert Pirisig's "Metaphysics of Quality" - "Equating it with the Tao, Pirsig postulates that Quality is the fundamental force in the universe stimulating everything from atoms to animals to evolve and incorporate ever greater levels of Quality. According to the MOQ, everything (including ideas, and matter) is a product and a result of Quality."

Right. Being one with the Tao. I get that. There have been some moments in my life where I seemed to ride, briefly, that righteous wave. Leaning into the Light. Leaning towards Quality. Riding the Tao. I think it's an ART.  There are the practical realities: reading the Classics, diving into the Fine Arts, listening the great music, playing a well-made instrument, looking for quality in everything you see, and do. Being a Creator. Being disciplined. Cultivating Quality in Heart, Spirit, Head. Looking for a magnificence in thinking, acting and being.

Now that's a worthy goal. It's easier to glimpse it here where everything is better. A hyper-reality of better-ness.

The a.m. soundtrack - The Grateful Dead's "Workingman's Dead" (1970) - an outlier, a black-sheep in the Dead's long, beautiful catalog. Probably their finest in-studio recording, most of their greatest moments were in live concert, but here, on this recording, they are truly magnificent. Great American band. Elements of Bluegrass, Country, R&R. Listen to those fabulous harmonies, listen to those wonderful guitars, acoustic and electric. QUALITY!

Guitars, Amps, Words...

Strange dream last night. 

I was talking guitars and amps with Neil Young. Man, he knows what he's doing, but he's also pretty set in his ways. Playing thru that beat-up, old Fender Twin Amp all these years. Still,  can't argue with the man or his catalog of work. 

Feeling a bit lost, empty this morning. MLK day. I have things to do, places to be. Have to keep moving. Keep my head in the game. 

Lately, it's all about staying healthy, keeping occupied; luckily I am working on some new songs, I am totally obsessed with placing the perfect words, in the perfect places and making them sound perfectly natural, effortless, seamless, and casual. 

Reading poetry lately: Shakespeare, Blake, Coleridge, Shelley, Yeats. Folks devoted to Art, Poetry, Words, Rhyme. Inspirers all. Human Beings who gave everything to writing words down on paper, creating indelible images in a reader's head. Images you can't shake, images that inspire and enlighten. The Good Work. Everything. Really.

The a.m. soundtrack - Filling the void with the glorious, amazing "Promises" (2021) - a collaboration from Floating Points, Pharaoh Sanders & the London Symphony Orchestra. A long, meditative work. Astonishing. Fills you with wondrous vibrations.

Here Comes the Sun...

And then, the morning comes and blazing, glorious, life-giving, life-affirming, dazzling, gorgeous, all encompassing sunlight blazes across the frozen landscape.Yes, a golden orb appears over the lake, bleeding light particles across the land. It is still incredibly cold, ice and snow coats everything. Still, the sunlight is undeniable. It seems to contain and engender the essence of Life. Positive, creative, exciting. No warmth from that over-powering, shining orb, but everything glows in its presence. As a Humble Pilgrim, you take what you can get. Yes, we are still in the throes of a deep-freeze, Spring is a long ways away, the pandemic is still raging, the Human Herd is stuck on lamentation and Hurly-Burly, but this Sunday morning, brilliant sunlight reigns over all. Magnificent.

Onslaught of Things...

Fresh snow here. A coat of white. The deep-freeze. Shades of gray. Dark branches reaching. Scratchy footprints, like hieroglyphics imprinted in the ice on the path. Chilly. Brittle. Hard. The day unfolds. Not welcoming. No sunshine. Dark clouds hovering. The radio tells me this and that, a jumble of syllables, broken words, pointing nowhere. Turns out the news: everything is "running rampant." The onslaught of things never, ever stops. 

Can't Avoid the Mud & Muck...

Positive: "full of hope and confidence, or giving cause for hope and confidence."

Right. Sitting on the mountaintop contemplating your navel might be a better locale in which to cultivate a positive frame of mind. Up there in the thin air, unencumbered by the madness and hurly-burly of the unkempt hordes. Maybe it's bit easier to be in a positive mode if you can avoid the mud and muck of existence; hanging with the eagles, closer to the sun, I mean, it probably helps to situate yourself in your own inner "sunny disposition" up there.

But, down here, in the "real world," encumbered with mud and muck we are. Down here with all the furious, raging, silly people, amidst all the constant "to-ing & fro-ing," all the "needing, wanting, grasping." You may ask yourself, how does a Simple, Humble Pilgrim stay positive? How to keep sunny under the dark, unrelenting onslaught of Hamlet's "slings and arrows of outrageous Fortune?"

Not sure I have a perfect formula. Often I fall under the waves of disappointment and despair. I have to swim upward with a coffee cup in hand, and fill that cup with a caffeinated elixir. Also I fill myself up with Poetry, Music, Laughter & Love. It all sounds big, high and mighty, but isn't. No these are the little things that give one a glimmer of light. Small inclinations & gestures. Tiny things to fill up a Soul & a Spirit. 

You can't take any of that stuff to the bank. It is the "stuff that dreams are made on." They don't stand up under the microscope. Ephemeral, fleeting, incandescent. Things that flash, shine, and glitter, and fill you up. Illuminate and animate a being. Wondrous. No doubt.

Very, Very Human...

Yes, there is the "doing" and then there is the "feeling," (see previous post). You like to think you can live in total alignment, Heart, Head, Spirit. That all of your actions can be good and righteous, and that you will feel happy and content in the doing. That would be an example and definition of the "Good Life." Magnificent in thought, feeling, action. Totally one. Seamless. There are times this happens, and they are the best moments in your life. No doubt. You have experienced moments like that. Maybe you are lost in a moment, enraptured in Love or a in treasured flow activity: reading a great novel, playing in a band, walking on the lakefront on a gorgeous afternoon with a loved one. Accomplishing something that defines you. Probably, I mean, you are pretty damn sure, you can't manufacture these moments, they just happen, they descend upon you, reveal themselves to you. Yes, a Revelation, an Unfolding, a Blossoming. You think (hat-tip - Thom Yorke): "Everything Perfect and in it's Right Place."

But then, often, the doing and the feeling are not aligned. Heart, Head, Spirit are all a jumble and at cross-purposes. Turns out doing things we know are "bad" feel good, and doing things we know are good can still make us feel bad. Weird. There is Worry, Guilt, Doubt, Sin, Suffering, Pain. Bad Blood. Bad Actions. We can fill our lives up with these things too. They accumulate like jet-trash, strewn around in our sacred spaces. Such a Human thing. Tricky. Complicated. Bi-furcated. A Circle of Hell. Yes. No doubt. We live there too. I mean, mostly we live in the divided, messed-up, cluster-fuck world. We do. We try our best to navigate without losing everything, but it ain't easy.

I think we've created Gods and Demons to sort of explore these realms, these human quandaries, and maybe that is helpful, not sure. It is all so Human, so very, very Human.

Doing Right, Feeling Bad...

You take Spike Lee's advice and "Do the Right Thing." Doing the right thing might be the right thing, but it doesn't necessarily always feel good. That is a spiky conundrum for you, right there. You do what you think is right, and feel bad for doing it. Hah! Tricky!

The Game: Survival...

There is something elemental about living in the deep-freeze of a Midwestern Winter. Super-cold temps, ice, snow, brutal winds. Everything is hard-edged, brittle. Every step is an adventure. You are one icy catastrophe from catastrophe.You are thrown back into basic Survival Mode. It does give one a richly-earned focus and mission: make it thru the day in one piece. You must be outfitted correctly: thick gloves, heavy boots, layers and layers of fabric, a big-ass hat, a couple of masks, the medical-grade one and then a fleece one over that too. Finally, you are a hulking beast roaming the streets with just your eyes barely peeking out (can't wear your sunglasses, they fog up too easily).  The goal: keep all your fingers and toes intact, don't fall down, don't hurt yourself, make it home to a warm meal. There is an upside to this whole scenario, you are reminded that every step counts, sometimes surviving is it's own reward. Making it seems like some kind of prize. We are months from Spring, expect an icy slog ahead, but, you know, the seasons change, no doubt. Hoping to be around to see it.

Dropping the "Wants."

This Monday morning, I think of Melville's "Bartelby the Scrivener": "I would prefer not to."

I also think of Nancy Reagan's famous War on Drugs campaign: "Just Say No."

AND, I think of that popular phrase: "Less is More."

Pretty contrary to the prevailing trends alive in the Human Herd. We live in the belly of the beast of the always on, 24/7 rage machine of unbridled "needing, wanting, grasping." It's all so exhausting.

Maybe sitting quiet. Doing nothing. Living with less. Dropping the "wants" could lead to a super-chill, fruitful yield. Who knows?!

The Age of Being Gob-Smacked...

Let us declare this is the Age of Being Gob-Smacked: "overwhelmed with wonder, surprise, or shock : ASTOUNDED."

Yes, truly. The actions and beliefs of many of my fellow Human Beings astound me. Not always in a good way, although, sometimes in a good way, but lately, mostly, not in a very good way at all. What is a Humble Pilgrim supposed to say in the face of displays of extreme stupidity, selfishness, pig-headed-ness, death-wish-style idiocy? 

YIKES! That's it. Yes. I am overwhelmed with YIKES!

A Sinking Feeling...

There's that sinking feeling that the virus, Omicron variety, is ascendent. The Human Beings are tired of the virus, and living with the virus, but the virus is thriving, multiplying and sickening folks at an accelerating rate. Can't help but feel a bit deflated and defeated. We have stayed healthy around here. Vaxxed and Boosted, open to be Boosted again if need be. Also, wearing masks basically all the time, except at home. Most of the news is discouraging. The Pandemic rolls along. It's a show we've all had to watch and participate in, it's all getting so old, we thought we'd be past it by this point, but of course, if we want to grow old, we should try our best to stay safe and healthy. We are doing what we are supposed to be doing. Anyone not playing along, well, damn them to hell. Hah! 

"Their cheese has slid off their biscuits."

For awhile in College I was an English Major, and then, after being forced to read the Forsyte Saga, I changed horses and jumped into becoming a Psychology Major. I was confused and at sea in those years. But ever since I do think I see much of my own Human experience and Human History thru a psychological lens.

So, when I reflect on the January 6, 2021 Insurrection, I think of "Mass Psychosis" and "Mental Illness." Those burly, gun-toting, body-armored, super-pissed off, MAGA-hatted, Trump-Lemmings are suffering from an illness. They are not "well in the head." Let me hijack a James McBride phrase to describe their mental health: "Their cheese has slid off their biscuits."

Yep. You think of "male inadequacy," impotence, pig-headed-ness, small mindedness, feelings of inferiority.  Also, PTSD, low self-esteem, various addictions, over-blown egos, delusions of grander, schizophrenia, bi-polar disorder, victims of abuse, lack of love in their lives. All those muscles and guns are just pathetic compensatory symbols of their simpering irrelevance and undesirableness.

Their over-blown, bad-performance-art, martial displays are just obvious & ridiculous signs of deep sickness.

Not so much, or just, a political problem, instead these folks are elaborate packages of a host of psychological problems. If we look at those "domestic terrorists" thru that lens, maybe it all makes more sense. And maybe, not only do those folks need to go to prison, but they need some major "head-shrinking." You can feel sorry for them. Yes, no doubt, many of them are very, very sick and they could use a helping hand. You can "tsk-tsk," but no need to try to remedy their political grievances. It's all madness, hurly-burly, mumbo-jumbo, white-supremacist, bullshit. It's not surprising you can't reason with those people. They aren't living in the realm of reason. They are living in an Angry-Cloud-Cuckoo-Land. They really are a sad joke. But it is a dangerous and pretty obscene joke that we need to deflate, and to grapple with.  Obviously, they are too ill to be armed. They are obsessed with guns and violence, they are the last ones you'd want to be armed, and they are armed to the teeth. There's the conundrum there. They are a threat to themselves and to others. 

What to do? Talk Therapy? Drug Therapy? Lots of hand-holding and counseling? Basket-weaving? Art therapy? Yes. Probably all of the above.

Saving Democracy. It's On Us.

Shite goes down, and then we pick up the pieces, and try to figure out what happened. You think the "truth will out," that good will prevail, that common sense and rationality will win out, but it's all pretty dicey. Human Beings are Tricky. And they want to believe what they want to believe, despite facts, evidence, what's right in front of their noses.

I throw my lot in with the Sensible Ones. Let's take a deep breath, review the scene, sift thru the wreckage,  be honest, and not afraid to see the reality of events. Drop the Fear, drop the Hate, remember that Human Beings are fallible, fungible, and squishy. 

Being a Humanist, being a Progressive, and a Democrat, you know, someone who believes in Democracy, I am one of those who can see that our country is deeply divided. The divide looks bone-deep and insurmountable. And all the things I "believe in" can be taken away, crushed, destroyed, and trampled upon. Now that's a scary prospect, indeed.

I refuse to be pulled into the vortex of conspiracy-minded madness. I refuse to fall into deep cynicism. Clear-seeing. Clear-headed-ness. Open-minded-ness. Gravity does exist. We can be smart, see the common humanity that runs thru us all. Yes, there are really pissed off and totally politically-deluded folks out there, angry and armed and clinging to a false narrative. 

But, yes, truth will out. I do think so. We need to roll up our sleeves. Do the good work. Move forward. Stay positive, work towards a better, stronger Democracy. We do out-number the deluded ones. We need to be smart, work hard, and not lose the narrative thread. Reject the Big Lie. Reject the Big Liars.

There was a dastardly, cowardly act of insurrection on January 6, 2021. We must not forget. And all the perpetrators, and their allies must be brought to Justice. Let this anniversary be a reminder, we can and must do better. It's on us.

Up for Grabs!

"Everything is up for grabs right now."

That's me this morning in conversation with my close-companion. I think it's true. Expect the unexpected. There is a heaping cavalcade of cluster-fucks around every corner.  Keep your eyes peeled, your head clear, be ready to laugh out loud at a moment's notice. "Serpentine!"

Making It...

One advantage to living in the Heartland of USA is that the weather is always changeable, and often extreme. We always have four seasons. Some seasons extend longer, or fall short, it all depends on the year, and, what with our accelerating climate catastrophe, the seasons are not always what they are cracked up to be. Sometimes it's super-hot, super cold, cloudy, humid, icy, snowy, rainy, etc. 

When pushed to the extremes, survival mode kicks in. It is a slimming down of what's important. For instance, yesterday, it was pretty damn cold over here.

So Life and it's Reasons and Goals, start shrinking. You devolve back to basics. What's important? Keeping your extremities from freezing. Also taking care with each step, lots of snow and ice to navigate. One step from catastrophe, that is the Ultimate Truth. The weather is bigger than us, tougher than us, it often challenges us.

So, yesterday, it was all about firing up, readying ourselves to meet the day. Thick hat, thick gloves, big, furry boots, layers of sweaters and a hoodie. Surviving the day. That was it. The purpose. It all sort of felt like a cleanse. A refresh of simplification. Of course, the pandemic is surging around us, but the frigid air seemed more real and relevant. But, you know, already 2022, the newest of  new years, already seems to have a theme: Make It. In One Piece.

Get it On...

Usually when Monday rolls around here we call the day: Meltdown Monday. You know, the weekend is over, holidays are over, goofing off is "retired," and it's back to a "nose to the grind-stone" mode. All the bills are due: all the menial tasks, worries, doubts, the shit you need to do,  comes to the fore. You feel like melting into a pool of tears and uncertainty. But, nope, you have to look in the mirror, face the music, and get on with it.

As someone else said, you need to pull yourself together with "spit and duct tape." Yes, as V. Lombardi would say: "When the going gets tough, the tough get going." It's that kind of morning. Bitterly cold out there.  No time for slacking. Need to fortify myself with coffee and just get on with it. Damn the torpedos.

New Year, Same Motto...

Yes... New Year... same newly-minted motto:

Life, Not What You Think.

There is hope in that, and a bit of humility too. Best to keep our feet on the ground, our heads held high, our eyes wide open. The moment is Now. It's always Now. The Future is Unwritten. Hope in that too. Hope is important, essential.  But, then, don't put all your eggs in the "hope basket," just get on with it, do the next most necessary thing to the best of your abilities. And damn the torpedos. Right?!

Everything is Electricity!

Louis Wain painting.

Hah. The clock ticks away and suddenly we declare it's 2022. It is kind of a shared delusion. We all basically go along with the idea, but, really, like that old song from the band Chicago asks: "Does anyone really know what time it is?" Nah. Not really.

What did we do New Year's Eve? Pizza party! 

And we streamed movies. We watched "The Eyes of Tammy Faye" (2021) - very good acting, well-made, totally gob-smacking, super-disturbing. I have always been greatly repelled by the soul-killing, money-hustling, American Southern Tele-Evangelist phenomenon. This movie pushed all my buttons. I realize my Bullshit Detector has been on high since about 3rd Grade in a Roman Catholic School. As a Wee Lad, I was so filled up with Jesus, the Devil, the Cross, Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, Limbo, Sin, Guilt, the Blood, the Suffering, I have no room or tolerance for any of those cheap, totally transparent hustlers selling God and unbridled, unashamed Capitalism and Prosperity. It is amazing how my fellow Americans never tire of being hustled by the Con and Con Men and Women of all stripes. (See also MAGA!). 

The other film about an artist was sort of an antidote; totally cool and inspiring. Another movie about life, and a real-world character: "The Electrical Life of Louis Wain" (2021) - beautiful, touching, amazing, sad. An example of a human being putting the best of themselves into their art. Transforming tragedy and suffering into beauty and joy. Yes, everything is electricity! No doubt! Just ask your local mitochondria! Louis Wain was an "eccentric" man, he loved cats, and made cats and their "electrical nature" his life's work. Fabulous film. Nick Cave is in it (small cameo). I have lately been on a Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds jag, so it was great to see him playing H.G. Wells. Highly recommended!

The a.m soundtrack: "World Spirituality Classics 1: The Ecstatic Music of Alice Coltrane Turiyasangitananda" (2017) - This record was a major discovery for us in 2021. Just spinning it seems like a spiritual quest. So beautiful, passionate, holy. We actually ended up purchasing a handful of Alice Coltrane cds in 2021. This one, a late career collection from "rare ashram tapes" is bold, breath-taking, powerful, life-changing. Alice Coltrane was certainly a giant in music. Her life, her art, her dedication to the spirit is a joy and an example. Great way to start the new year.  The music swells, and washes, and cleanses the soul.  "Om Shanti, Om Shanti Om..."