"Then You Become a Subversive Mother..."

I surprised myself. 

I have always been into edgy, dark, existential-type films, (think for instance: David Lynch, Martin Scorsese,  PT Anderson, Francis Coppola, Quentin Tarantino, Stanley Kubrick) or, you know, French, New Wave films (Bresson, Truffant, Godard),  that always left me scratching my head afterwards, wondering just what I had just seen. I love movies that make me think, and disorient me, and make me question my own hold on reality.

Yesterday we sat in a big theater on a nice summer afternoon and saw such a film. First it's a HILARIOUS film. From the first scene to the last it had my companion and I in stitches. Which is a fine, rare thing for sure. 

But it was also a film that asked the big questions: What is it to be Human? How are we supposed to deal with Aging, Death, and Constant Uncertainty? How can we deal with a reality that is always changing? How do we get our heads around the idea the idea that nothing is perfect? 

It was also a film that critiqued the Patriarchy, and our Capitalistic Consumer Culture. It seemed to be "WOKE"  to the MAX in a good, and essential, way, and it was delightfully subversive. Blowing up our cultural perfect pictures of how Woman and Men act in our world.

It turned everything upside down. Brilliant, a total kick, blows your mind. I kid you not, the movie, is a revolution, a movement, a major artistic statement.

That movie is "Barbie"  (2023). Directed by Greta Gerwig, written by Greta and Noah Baumbach.  An amazing, enjoyable, entertaining, ridiculously-head-opening, film, really. Like I said, I surprised my self.  BARBIE?!?  Yes. Really... Barbie...

Suffused with Spirit...

Can't prove it but I do truly believe we are spiritual beings in a material world. Hard to determine proportions. I mean it's probably besides the point. Let's go with the idea that every last cell in our bodies is suffused with spirit. That's how it "feels" to this particular human being. And navigating spirit and material makes for a fully-realized and satisfied mind & life. It seems obvious, but sometimes we lose the thread.

Yesterday we spent lots of time out in the analog/material world. That is pretty much true with every day. But it was all spirit-feeding scenes we were seeking. We rode our bikes along the lakefront to a funky, hog-dog stand on the beach. Big, beautiful waves rolled in. Seagulls circling above in the brilliant blue sky. There was a gathering of the tribes to see a r&r trio make it's debut. Fronted by a wonderful, charismatic female singer and guitar player. They played a blistering, hard-rock set. The audience was made up of all of our friends, casual acquaintences, and fellow musicians and creatives. It was joyful celebration: human beings creating and connecting, doing the things they love to do to the max.

It was all hugs and glad-handing afterwards. Seeing and being seen. It's part of living in the material world. Recognizing fellow-travelers on this odd journey.

Then we biked over to a very classy wine and cheese shop. We ordered some cold drinks and then settled in to catch a set from a very accomplished, sensitive, singer-songwriter. He is a real-deal troubadour. Accompanied by a second guitar and a percussionist. He played originals and covers. Again the audience consisted of folks who we knew, folks who saw our band play a set the night before at a little storefront a few blocks away. It was a beautiful scene. Nearly every one in the room was a singer, guitar player, poet, writer, folks who create, who do their thing without any sense of fame or fortune. Under the radar, so to speak. The pleasure of doing & being. It's kind of an art in itself.

Yes. It was a day of minds & spirits. A gathering of the creative tribes. A good day. No doubt. Feeding the body, mind & soul. We biked home, feeling happy, filled up, satisfied & inspired too. Material and Spirit one.

Riding Exquisite Vibes...

We played a storefront r&r show last night. Another hot day in the city, We were a bit worried that the temps inside the music room would be stifling. But we lucked out. A storm blew in and cooled things down a bit by the time we took the stage at around 9 p.m. or so. 7 of us were crowded on a small stage. Playing to a totally packed house. Fabulously welcoming vibes. There is something about playing a small room, it concentrates the energy, and heightens the connection between performers and those for whom we perform. The audience too becomes an essential ingredient to the mix. Sure, we have the songs, we play the music, but the energy we create is filtered thru those who give us their undivided attention and it all becomes so much more. 

Lightening and thunder and strong winds outside, and inside too. We truly did conjure up our own storm.

It's surprising how our band is now perceived. We have our own quirky, original, homemade music, and it seems to really connect and speak to folks. There was joy and dancing in the aisles. A truly inspiring thing. I burst into flames on stage. It's a typical thing for me. Almost lost my pick during one song, the sweat flowing down my fingers. We had a few minor kerfuffles, a glitch or two, some feedback from who knows where, we are definitely a challenge to any sound-person. We also had a mis-cue or two. But what we lacked in absolute precision we made up with energy, passion, panache. 

Really.

Someone who has seen us many times over the years said to me afterwards that it was the best show he's ever seen from us. Not an idle comment, this enthusiastic validation comes from a magnificent singer-songwriter, and talented performer in his own right. His kind words really hit home. It truly was a magnificent evening. A good rare thing. We are so damn lucky to have a creative vehicle. We get to ride the good vibes and shoot towards some kind of grand transcendence. Sometimes everything clicks. I mean often now. Lightening in a bottle. A good kind of storm for sure.

New Age "Action Jackson!"

My friend was on the bench. It was pretty damn hot yesterday, still, no doubt, we are lucky, we live near a big body of water named Lake Michigan, and it is usually "cooler by the lake." There was a friendly cooling breeze flying across the lake to caress us and there were big, leafy trees providing little spots of oasis-shade. I was down aways from the bench walking towards my waiting friend. It had been a long morning and early afternoon of trudging the neighborhood in the heat and humidity.  We were meeting for a little "time-out," cool drinks and cool conversation. I was a little worse for wear, sweaty, tired, a bit brittle, walking sort of gingerly. Thinking: "One step at a time, AND, Every step counts!"

When I arrived at the bench my friend exclaimed with a devilish laugh: "We should make an action figure of you. You know, a little character with boots, t-shirt, sunglasses, bandana, and hand them out to everyone we know." 

Ha. Ha. I knew what she was saying. As you navigate this globe, as you do enough circles around the world that add up to decades upon decades of living, hard and not so hard, you become that crusty, odiferous, uniquely-you character you always imagined yourself to be. I think it's best to be a character actor, not a leading man type, you have far less to fall when you inevitably do fall. And all the unique falling adds up to something agreeably uncommon.

Right. Got it. Call me: A New-Age "Action Jackson."

Passion, Trauma, Death, Joy, Creativity = Typical Day...

It was a challenging morning yesterday. Storms blew in. Prodigious, heavy rain. Thunder and lightening. I meditated in our sun-room with two of our little birdies, the third one, the little loud one, retreated to a perch in the living-room afraid of all the Mother Nature hubbub, before I headed out to do a walk with a furry creature. My bike turned up with a flat back tire. I believe it's a "structural problem," a spoke in the wheel poking thru to puncture the tube. Yikes. That meant I had to walk at a brisk pace about 10 blocks to do my appointed round, in the face of over-powering heat and humidity. By the time I got back home I was completely wrung out and my shirt was absolutely soaked with sweat.

We had a short break, change of shirts, my partner and I had lunch, a power-bar and cold drinks, then we took a Lyft to the recording studio in the City. We rode thru sultry streets, windows rolled down. The news came on the radio station, an FM station playing the hits, Sinead O'Connor had died at the tender age of 56. The news walloped us both. Crushing to hear. So sad and shocking, and then the DJ played her cover of Prince's "Nothing Compares 2 U." We both melted, tears flowed. What a voice, what a powerful force, a woman who as the rock writer Bill Flanagan once wrote, was very much like another of our great inspirations, John Lennon, both extraordinary artists and people who "wore their hearts on the their sleeves." No matter what they did, they did with style, passion and total commitment.

"I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got," (1990) is truly a masterpiece record, a bold, fiery, indelible, beautiful artistic statement. Sinead's enemies totally deserved her passionate wrath: the child-abusing Catholic Church, the authoritarian Margaret Thatcher, misogynistic men, and abusive partners who tried to dominate & own her. The record is totally one of my all-time favorites. My partner and I believe that our creative work is the "best of us," I believe that is the case with all the artists I admire. Troubled, sometimes flawed (aren't we all?), Human Beings, fully human souls giving their absolute best to their artistic pursuits. Certainly Sinead and Lennon are prime examples. Humans doing the good work, fearlessly.

Every death is shocking. The loss incalculable. The passing of Sinead hit home, deeply. 

We made it to the recording studio. All the pressure was on my shoulders. I was there to re-do a vocal and also to redo and "punch in," a tricky, delicate finger-picking, acoustic guitar part. The vocal re-do was fairly easy. I sang with passion, a part that I have sung many times live at shows. I was there to just give it my own natural best. We got a good take in two tries. The guitar part was a bit more difficult; playing along with a fully recorded track, I listened to the original part, and tried my best to match the tempo and timing, (we didn't originally record with a click-track, so the timing was sort of free-form and nebulous),  and also to somehow recreate the original feel and touch. A couple of false starts. I lost the thread when the strings (a violin & double bass) came in, a bit disorienting. There was a moment where we all, my partner, the engineer, and I, thought maybe we should abort, and live with the original track. The engineer was of the opinion that the original guitar track was fine, I heard his voice in my headphones ask: "What's the point?" Ha. Maybe I was trying to recreate something that didn't need to be recreated? Maybe I was chasing a unicorn, a flashing mirage?

That thought-train actually straightened me up. We re-ran the track and I played my part and finished it in one take. I knew that the original track was ok, maybe in some ways it was totally fine, but to my ears, and maybe only to my ears, I knew I could play it a bit better. When I listened to the earlier version I heard a bit of hesitation, a tentativeness in my playing. That's why we were there. Anyway, everything clicked, I laid down a nicely-played track. To my ears the guitar part now was bold, confident, easy and fluid, beautifully-recorded with one well-placed microphone. To my ears, the track now sounds finished, and so much better.

We reviewed a handful of other mixes, made a few minor revisions, ran the new mixes, and then packed up our gear and headed home. It was an eventful day of music, passion, struggle, loss, storms, doing the thing that you love to do with all your might and passion, with the reminder that death comes to us all. Any time. So always be busy doing what you think is worth doing with heart, love, deep passion and total commitment. That's the Human Way.

The Trend is Not Good...

"The trend is not good..."

That was a sentence I heard on the radio regarding our Climate Catastrophe. Supreme Understatement.  The trend is us! Human Beings and our all-consuming, damn the torpedos lifestyles did this...

The plot below shows atmospheric CO2 levels from 1700 to 2021. This is based on ice core data before 1958, then the instrumental record at Mauna Loa from the Scripps CO2 program and, finally, the 2021 CO2 forecast from the Met Office. 

Yikes...

Ok. Lets try to balance all the bad news with a slight glimmer of Hope:  "Switching The World To Renewable Energy Will Cost $62 Trillion, But The Payback Would Take Just 6 Years"

You wonder if the Tricky Monkeys can rally to the cause...

GAIA is Fucking WOKE!

It is becoming pretty damn obvious that Gaia will be teaching Human Beings a few very important, hard-earned, and well-deserved lessons. 

Our species has been quite unruly. We have pretty much trashed our beautiful, life=supporting paradise. Gaia is not pleased. She is all-powerful, she controls the "horizontal & the vertical." 

She can unleash an onslaught of harrowing scenarios. She is fucking woke, and what she has in store for our species looks like it's not gonna be pretty. 

If you thought the Old Testament God who pretty much loathed humanity was bad, wait until you get a healthy heaping of a Pissed-Off Gaia.

The Greatest Hits of Gaia: Heat Waves, Drought, Pestilence, Food Scarcity, Flooding,  A Long Hard Fucking Rain, Deforestation, Depleted Top-Soil, Species Extinction, Uncontrolled Wildfires, Dead Oceans, Extreme Cold Temps, Hurricanes, Tornados, Derechos, Super-Storms,  Human Dislocation, etc.

You know that beautiful, mild, life-supporting web of life? Tattered. Broken. Under stress. Pushed to the brink. Yikes.

What are big take-aways for The Complicated, Tricky Monkeys? We fucked up, royally. Everything counts. Everything is connected. We are of Nature, and in Nature, and Nature is a giving and taking Mother. We are all in this together. No one will be spared. Climate Catastrophe is REAL Democracy in Action. We will all suffer. The Wealthy may think the are immune, but even they will feel the effects. No doubt.

We all did a lot of talking, but very little doing. We have been terrible caretakers for our Lovely Gaia. We just kept burning those fossil fuels, and we basically torched the place. Fuck. What is Lost, cannot be Found. Welcome to the New Abnormal.

Strings of Words...

"Make the best of it."

"Deal with the deal."

"Don't judge it, live it."

"Swim to clarity."

"Too much of a good thing can be a bad thing."

Best & Worst at the Same Time...

F. Scott Fitzgerald:  "the test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function."

Yes. Indeed. Let me demonstrate my intelligence this a.m.

"We Humans are royally fucked, we've totally cooked our atmosphere, we refused to listen, hell-bent on destroying ourselves, but, hell, don't worry, be happy, it will all work itself out. We truly will get what we deserve."

Or.

"Everything is Holy, Life is cheap."

"It is the best of times and the worst of times, times two!"

"It's all completely hopeless. Here's hoping for the best!"

I am feeling a bit fatalistic/pessimistic this morning. I think the climate catastrophe is real, and probably irreversible, and we can all expect apocalyptic suffering and dislocation in the coming years for our planet and species, but it's a glorious morning, I had a fabulous, totally restful & refreshing sleep, the coffee is excellent, life-giving, Led Zeppelin's 3 CDs, 150 min.  "How the West Was Won," recorded live in America in June 1972, and January 1973 is on the box, and sounds big, bombastic, over-powering and gracefully beautiful too. The John Bonham drum solo during Moby Dick is equal parts amazing and mind-numbing, and Jimmy Page's electric guitar playing is totally thrilling & captivating. I swoon at the beauty of Jimmy's acoustic guitar playing, his old Martin guitar sounds sublime, such a light, graceful touch. Plant is in fine form, although hearing him sing "Baby," over and over is a bit much, kitsch! John Paul Jones? Mandolin, bass, keys? Not a false move or note. Superb.

You may be wondering, "Isn't it a bit early in the morning to be blasting Zep Live on the loudspeakers?" I answer with a resounding "No, Man!" I mean, really it's a perfect start to the day.

So yeah. Sunday. Sunshine. Music. Coffee. Good vibes. Nowhere to go at the moment.

WTF. Life.

Addictions...

More news about the weather. 

Turns out the weather is important. The temps, the humidity, the direction of the breeze, the cloud cover, the angle of the earth in relation to the sun. One day gorgeous, the next day apocalyptic. Makes one think we should all be paying more attention and take more care about what kind of shite we throw into the atmosphere. Too much carbon dioxide makes the baby go blind. Funny too. Our addiction to fossil fuels is like an addiction to fentanyl. Not a good  long-term career choice. A deadly addiction isn't gonna end well. What are fossil fuels? Dead stuff. Living off of dead stuff leads to a supreme dead-ness. Yikes.

Economic Justice & Equity...

"Every billionaire is a policy failure..."

"The latest Oxfam Inequality Report, Survival of the Richest, calls for a wealth tax on the super-rich."

Yes. Indeed. One of the main culprits in our Climate Catastrophe is income inequality. A small percentage of the population has too much money, too much power and too much influence over the conversation and the imagination of the population.

It takes a conglomeration of villages to raise a billionaire.  There are no self-made billionaires. All those fortunes are built on the backs of the "common folk." Time for a bit of economic justice and equity.  

Really. We need a better tax code. Across the globe. Now.

Ingredients...

The secret? There are a few. Maybe not so secret.

Ingredients of "The Good Life."

A restful night's sleep. Solves so many problems. To wake up recharged and refreshed. The best medicine.

A good meal. Yes. Food is medicine. Healthy, organic, fresh, lots of greens. 

Coffee. No doubt. The rocket fuel. The will to live. Conjures up energy for the day.

A project. Always onto the next thing. A hope. A dream. A mission.

A good book. Always be reading. Opens the world. Opens your head & heart.

Music. Always be listening to music. Expand your horizons. Fill your days with good vibrations.

Keep moving. Walking, running, biking, swimming. Whatever. Use that body.

Stop and smell the roses. Take a moment to reflect, observe. Silent contemplation. Meditation.

Cool Trick of the Mind...

Gorgeous day in our neighborhood yesterday. 

Smoke and haze from the Canadian fires swept away by a change of breeze. Moderate temps, sunny, blue sky day. The lake looked like an ocean. We were back to our amazing bench. Folks stopped by and said, "Hello."

It's funny, but true, after a life-long practice, I am getting really good at living in the moment. You know, being totally ZEN, and really living by Ram Dass' powerful idea "Be Here Now."

I can visit the Past, but not get hung up there. I can glimpse possible Futures, but I am aware that my ideas are probably smoke and vapor-trails. I do a lot less brooding over, or speculating about, things I have no control over. Not worried about being "right," or "wrong," but just happy to be alive in the momentary "what-is." It seems like a much more clear-eyed, diamond-headed, clarifying way to live, and to be.

Everything is the moment, in, and of, the moment. If you live in the moment it seems as if it is ever-extending and always-expanding. Experiencing moment as eternity. A weirdly cool trick of the mind, no doubt. The main shift has been not just knowing to Be Here Now, but to do it, naturally, easily, and with little effort. That's the Way of Moment to Moment Zen.

Sometimes the Dude Abides...

A close associate I know, a fabulous, wonderful person and shining soul claimed to be quite cynical:

"having or showing the attitude or temper of a cynic: such as a: contemptuously distrustful of human nature and motives and b: based on or reflecting a belief that human conduct is motivated primarily by self-interest"

Not so surprising. If you've been around the block a few times it's easy to come to the conclusion that Human Beings are basically selfish shits.  And,  it isn't surprising that many of us are distrustful of others. Probably because we are also distrustful of ourselves. And, of course, it's hard not to be self-interested. We are embedded in our bodies, and we spend most of our time with ourselves. 

I guess it is probably worth pointing out that often people can and do act in a self-less manner.  There is  that wonderful concept called altruism: "the principle and practice of concern for the welfare and/or happiness of other humans or animals."  I do believe it's a common thing. Not a hopeless mirage.

Often Human Beings seem to be good-intentioned. There is often, unaccountably a bold, uncommon, life-affirming, grace, kindness and a healthy self-awareness to be found in the Human Heart & Head. 

So yes, we are all a decidedly mixed-bag. Human Beings are complicated & tricky. And sometimes they will surprise. Often, we will often even surprise ourselves.  Some of us have come to the realization that we aren't the Center of the Universe, and it's not all about us, and it's a good thing, and we can try our best to live that way.

Best to keep an open mind and heart. Sure, Human Beings will probably disappoint. But sometimes...  (quoting from the Big Lebowski), well...  sometimes... The Dude (or the Dude-ette),  Abides...

A New, Less Doomy Story on Climate Chaos...

Love this essay from Rebecca Solnit in the Guardian: "If you win the popular imagination, you change the game’: why we need new stories on climate..."

We need to find and tell new stories about our Climate Chaos.  

"Every crisis is in part a storytelling crisis. This is as true of climate chaos as anything else. We are hemmed in by stories that prevent us from seeing, or believing in, or acting on the possibilities for change. Some are habits of mind, some are industry propaganda. Sometimes, the situation has changed but the stories haven’t, and people follow the old versions, like outdated maps, into dead ends."

"A lot of people don’t know that we’ve largely won the battle to make people aware and concerned. The LA Times ran a well-intentioned editorial last year about how most Americans don’t care about climate breakdown. That was true once, but no longer is. A Pew Research poll in 2020 concluded that two-thirds of Americans wanted to see more government action on climate, but last summer the scientific journal Nature published a study concluding that most Americans believe that only a minority (37-43%) support climate action, when in reality a large majority (66-80%) does. That gap between perceived and actual support undermines motivation and confidence. We need better stories – and sometimes better means more up to date."

"A climate story we urgently need is one that exposes who is actually responsible for climate chaos. It’s been popular to say that we are all responsible, but Oxfam reports that over the past 25 years, the carbon impact of the top 1% of the wealthiest human beings was twice that of the bottom 50%, so responsibility for the impact and the capacity to make change is currently distributed very unevenly.

"By saying “we are all responsible”, we avoid the fact that the global majority of us don’t need to change much, but a minority needs to change a lot. This is also a reminder that the idea that we need to renounce our luxuries and live more simply doesn’t really apply to the majority of human beings outside what we could perhaps call the overdeveloped world. What is true of Beverly Hills is not true of the majority from Bangladesh to Bolivia."

Yes. Well, do yourself a favor, read the whole thing. We can change the story. Doom and apocalypse is not a given. "The Future is Unwritten."  This is mainly a story of the "Haves" vs. the "Have Nots."  It's time to change the story and the reality...

Fatherly Wisdom...

This morning I am thinking about a few of the nuggets of wisdom my father passed onto me...

My father used to say: "It's all about the haves versus the have nots."

I usually pushed back against that idea, it seemed too simple, I mean, you know, it must be more complicated than that. Of course, now, many years later, it's so obviously true. Undeniable. It's written on the wind. Every nation, every era. Those with all the money & power always lord it over everyone else. That is the Human Way. And often the stupid little people laud those with money & power, they put them up on pedestals, make them heroes, even as the haves exploit, rape and plunder. Yikes. It's an ugly & very stupidly true story.

My father also often quoted Vince Lombardi: "When the Going gets tough, the Tough Get Going." Yes, the going is always tough, so you are always required to get going, damn the torpedos.

"I never promised you a rose garden." That was line often on my father's lips. He would say it with a smile and lilt in his voice. You know, it was one of those hard-earned sentiments, floated casually. He seemed to be telling me to deal with the deal, no matter what.

"What's it all about Alfie?" A movie starring Michael Caine and a song by Burt Bacharach and Hal David. My father would often sing that line.  It was a perfect response to pretty much every morning's headlines. I used to make fun of my father for going to the sport pages and the comics before tackling the news of the day. Now, I totally get it. A perfect defense mechanism for dealing with the madness, the horror, the suffering of the Human thing, and a way of dealing with the deal.

There was also this bonus nugget of advice that my father often quoted via Lombardi: "Run to Daylight." Yes. But of course, but you don't always have to run, you can also walk into the light, or even just lean to the light. Be kind, gentle, follow the Golden Rule. That was the wisdom and way of my Father. Yes.

Hoping there's Hope...

We live with birds. We feel that we are part of the flock. 3 beings with wings, 2 beings who wished they had wings. We are all connected by invisible strings. We are all so flighty and damn sensitive. It is easy to get spooked and overwhelmed. We spend lots of time trying to decompress, to chill out, to find a mode, a happy, Zen-like, underwhelming. All the news lately has been a bit upsetting and disappointing. We are concerned for Life on the Planet. That's a big worry, and although it's super-important it's also sort of pointless & ridiculous. We are pretty much helpless on that front. We try hard to be carbon-neutral, to be careful stewards of the Life all around us, but we are not even drops in the now getting hotter and more polluted oceans. Yes, the Climate Catastrophe has us totally spooked. How to get thru? The only strategy that seems to work is to concentrate on our own gardens of being. Feed our hearts, our heads, our souls with creative pursuits, to cultivate beauty and good cheer. Open our hearts to the deep suffering all around and try to encompass it, and not be swallowed by it. Maybe it's that idea of embracing the shadow, processing the darkness, realizing that the dark and light are always dancing around each other. And what of our fellow Human Beings? We are the culprits, we are the murderers responsible for this concentrated attack on the Earth Goddess Gaia.  Are we totally irredeemable? Can we change our ways? Is there some Deus Ex Machina just out of the frame of this ecological horror-film? The jury is out. We have to Hope that there's Hope. And that little glimmer has to be enough.

Dante's Seven Circles of Our Hell-like Predicament...

Misanthropy - "is the general hatred, dislike, distrust, or contempt of the human species, human behavior, or human nature. A misanthrope or misanthropist is someone who holds such views or feelings."

Of course if you are a dyed-in-the-wool Misanthrope, you have hatred, dislike, distrust or contempt for yourself too. It's kind of a Catch-22 thing. Anyone raised in the Roman Catholic Church knows of what I speak.

Can you be a kind, gracious, happy, giving, joyous, life-enjoying, gentle, beautiful, creative, vivacious, inspiring Misanthrope? 

Yes, that kind of contradictory dilemma is exactly possible. I am intimately familiar with such a Misanthrope. I can easily ride that vibe too. You know, my thing, of course, we are the Tricky, Complicated, Often Disappointing Monkeys. 

My good friend and I love Nature, all the mountains, rivers, streams & oceans, all the pretty creatures, all the flora and fauna, but we have a love/hate relationship with all things Human. Thinking that the best of us are caretakers and protectors of the Natural World, the World that we were birthed from, but also knowing that the worst of us are the destroyers, the thoughtless murderers of all this Natural Beauty, Enemies of the Good and the Good-Natured amongst us.

A nasty conundrum, indeed.

We are Social Beasts. Some of us are Bad-Intentioned, and Bad things flow from that stance. Some of us are Good-Intentioned, and sometimes Good and Sometimes Bad things flow from that stance, think: The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions & Unintended-Consequences.

So yeah, think of any Human Institution & Invention. Think of the Flawed Nature of Being Human. That explains much of our Dante's Seven Circles of Our Hell-like predicament.

"It"s All Happening..."

You might want to think about our present circumstance as the consequence of the new demeanor of the Greek Goddess of Earth, Gaia. She is ill & totally, fucking pissed. 

Yesterday we were at rehearsal room running thru songs, it is one of our favorite things to do in the world. It's the essential good-work that feeds the soul. Storms blew thru while we were singing and playing. And then alarms and sirens went off.

It was bit strange, surreal and eerie. The sky was dark and light. There was calm, and wild storminess looming over our heads. We packed up our gear and a scooted home. We dodged rain-drops and listened to the loud, screaming, whining sirens promising rough weather.

Safe back at home we heard on the radio that a "flock of tornados" were passing thru. Yikes. That's a new one. We also caught a bit of an interview with Jeff Goodell, the author of the moment: 

"The Heat Will Kill You First: Life and Death on a Scorched Planet."

"It's all happening." That comes from one our favorite movies, "Almost Famous," but it is a sentence that can be applied to our new planet-reality.

Think of Gaia as a patient, sick, in bed, a whirling mess of a being with all her vital signs on the fritz. I think of that haunting phrase I once heard in a hospital: A cascade of failure.  Too much carbon in the air, too much poison from burning fossil fuels, polar ice melting, oceans boiling.  

Everything in the extreme: heat, cold, rain, flooding, drought; every last thing pushed to the brink of fuck-up. 

This little humble canary asks silly questions like:

What happens when the plants and trees burn up and go extinct?

What happens when the oceans die?

What happens when large swaths of planet earth are totally uninhabitable?

Where do the the human beings go?

How will they be fed, clothed and housed?

Why did our species conspire to murder Gaia?

What were we thinking?

Yikes. 

I hate to be a canary in a coal-mine, or the bearer of bad news, but the truth of our human-made, climate catastrophe is pretty damn undeniable. A supremely stupid question: How is it possible that we did absolutely nothing to avoid this calamity? Fuck...

"The Heat Will Kill You First is about the extreme ways in which our planet is already changing. It is about why spring is coming a few weeks earlier and fall is coming a few weeks later and the impact that will have on everything from our food supply to disease outbreaks. It is about what will happen to our lives and our communities when typical summer days in Chicago or Boston go from 90° F to 110°F. A heatwave, Goodell explains, is a predatory event— one that culls out the most vulnerable people. But that is changing. As heatwaves become more intense and more common, they will become more democratic."

A Better Ride with Verve & Panache...

In-tune. Being in-tune. It's the first, and maybe, the most important thing, to consider and embrace, especially if you play in a band. Playing guitar means always be tuning. You train your ears, you stretch your strings, you tune up, and check, and double-check your tuning. It becomes second nature.

Your vibrations must be in accord with the atmosphere of the room and beyond.

I think also we need to be in-tune with the day, with reality, with the conditions of the world, moment to moment. You tune your head, your heart, your soul to the righteous frequency. You vibrate to the frequencies of the moment. Sometimes it's a glorious thing, tuning into the blue sky, the warm temps, the thriving greenery, the good vibes.

Sometimes the day, the reality, is not all that glorious; it's funky and clunky, all dissonance and thunder. You need to tune into that too. No sense in resisting. No sense complaining. Take in the vibe of the day and tune into it. Bring on the funk, bring on the noise. It can be music to your ears.

Being in-tune makes for a better ride. The trick is to ride the vibe of the moment with all the verve and panache you can muster.

Greedy Fools...

Some of my Fellow Human Beings seem to display a fatal failure of imagination. There also seems to be a major failure of language. So we are failing on multiple fronts.

When folks talk about "climate change," or "global warming," it all sounds sort of nice & comfy & quaint.  There is no sense of the dastardly dire circumstances those words point to.

I like to use the phrase "Climate Catastrophe," but maybe even that is inadequate. Instead, maybe this is a bit more on target:

"Dear friends, scientifically, this is not a #ClimateCrisis. We are now facing something deeper. Mass extinction. Air pollution. Undermining ecosystem functions. Really putting humanity’s future at risk. This is a #PlanetaryCrisis.« — Professor @jrockstrom, Director @PIK_Climate"

What to do? Here are a few ideas: 8 Things the World Needs to do to avoid the Worst of Climate Change...

The big question, can we act as a Species? Can we act together? Can we really get our shit together? The evidence, and history, of our Species is not encouraging. We are really good at being greedy & selfish. We are really good at competing and dominating.

It's time we started cooperating. Acting in the best interests of all life, all ecosystems. It really is an interconnected, life-supporting web that we are trashing. We are acting like greedy fools. Yikes.

TCB...

"Take Care of Business Mr. Business Man..."  *

"TCB" (taking care of business), was one of Elvis Presley's go to phrases. In his case, later in his career, that meant finding every pill known to Man, and gobbling them down like a crazed-turkey. Yikes. Not recommended.

Life, you know, is not a Business. It's not about dollars and cents, it doesn't always make sense, or add up, Life is Life. So when I think of taking care of business, I think of being healthy, happy, engaged. Keeping two feet on the ground. Going with the flow of Life and navigating as best I can. Our business is to Love and Pay Attention to the details of the world. To be as open and giving to everything in the Universe as possible.

Yesterday we were taking care of business, and it felt just like being fully alive, aware, awake. That's the way do it Mr. Business Man...

*A line from a Ray Stevens song. My father used to sing that line when I was a wee lad. He was spending his days (not always delightfully), being a Business Man, taking care of business. I always wondered where that line originated. Welcome to the Wonders of the Great Google.

By Doing You Transform...

One of my favorite lines from the Tarot: "Walk the mystical path on practical feet." Yes, indeed. You want to live with your head in the clouds, you want to fly with the eagles, but really, you are earthbound, and all of your best work is done one step at a time, walking the walk, less talking the talk.

I have always been a bit of a dreamer, but my best dreams are the ones that actually materialize, they emerge out of a concentrated practice. Creative visualization. Deep meditation. Doing the good work, applying myself, spending lots of time playing, practicing, doing the things I love to do as if they are the most important things I can and must do. The magic somehow emerges out of the mundane. By doing you transform yourself and the world. It's surprising, but true.

Everything counts, everything is connected. Paying attention to the details is essential. Observing, taking in the wonder and yes, even the horror of life. The darkness and light and everything in between. It's the practice, the practical that leads to the mystical. A strange alchemy & truth. A code to live by.

Apocalypse on Our Lips?

I don't aspire to be a Weatherman, but I find myself often thinking about the weather. Mainly because I am always in it. And what's going on weather-wise seems very, very influential, to my moods, my outlook, my vision, my hopes, and dreams. Yikes. I don't want to be a prisoner to the weather, but often it feels like I am. A bad weather day you just want to hunker in, a good weather day you just want to be out and about. One wonders about the Climate Catastrophe, what will that do to our hearts and heads? Will we always be walking about with Apocalypse on our Lips?

Yesterday it was glorious here. I mean it was exceedingly pleasant. The day was overly-pleasant in every way. Temps, humidity, cooling breeze, perfect. The sun was out, puffy clouds passing thru, the lake a gorgeous blue, the waves happy and agreeable. Everyone we encountered seemed to be in a good mood. Pleasant, yes, even the Humans were intensely pleasant. We navigated the day in a sunny, happy state of contentment. 

Playing the Day...

It helps to think of Life as a game. It's something we play. Everything counts, everything is connected. But to play is the thing. Keeping a studied, healthy distance from your self. You are inhabiting a body, you are alive in the moment to moment, but you have space, a space in your heart & head. You can luxuriate inside, find comfort in your skin. Meditation is door to that space. Spending time in Nature is a door too. Best to keep those doors open. Yesterday we were back to our bench on the lakefront. The wind was caressing. The waves were high and surging. The temps were agreeable. We sat on our bench and stared off into the great Eastern horizon. Words came, we had a nice conversation, but the words fluttered over us. We were clinging to absolutely nothing. We let it all, every last thing, lightly wash over us. It felt so right and good. Essential too. Playing the day.

Getting Hot Around Here. Who Knew?! Oh Yeah, Pretty Much Anyone Paying Attention...

The Hottest Day on Earth ever recorded by Humans...

Oh my. Who could have predicted it? Oh yeah, pretty much anyone paying attention!

"The world's average temperature reached a new high on Monday 3 July, topping 17 degrees Celsius for the first time. Scientists say the reading was the highest in any instrumental record dating back to the end of the 19th century. The high heat is due to a combination of the El Niño weather event and ongoing emissions of carbon dioxide. Researchers believe there will be more records in the coming months as El Niño strengthens."

"Look at Mother Nature on the run in the 1970's..." - Neil Young (After the Gold Rush, 1970).

Defiantly, Joyously, Contrary...

There is a certain pleasure in being defiantly contrary. You know, the things we love help define us, the things we don't love help define us too. Yesterday, a big Holiday for everyone, I was working, occupying the large mansion on the lake, protecting it from the invading hordes. Right off the bat, out of step. Plus my beloved lakefront was alive, and frankly, over-run with an over-stuffed cornucopia of humanity. It was all too much. No way could you take a bike ride, and even a leisurely walk out on the paths was out of the question. Bodies everywhere, every shape and size, every hue and color, every nationality and persuasion. There was loud thumping music, a DJ relentlessly working his mind-numbing, booty-shaking, playlist; a throbbing, grooving, cacophony. There was smoke, and the aroma of burned flesh wafted over the park from the BBQ pits dotted all across the grassy knoll. And there were troops of folks flocking down the long, meandering trail, staking out a place to watch the big fire-works display scheduled to begin after sun-down. 

My partner rode her bike over to join me in a house of luxury. She came in with her face-beaming,  telling me about all the beautiful faces she had encountered on her way over; smiling, joyous, humans, all sparkly, alive, and excited to be alive. I had to laugh. Life: it's all about each individual's particular perceptions. We settled down for an inspired song-writing session. A new song was alive on my partner's lips, and in her head, I brought a guitar out and we tried our best to bring it to the light. We captured the essence of the song on a little digital recorder. It felt so good to have a new song in our sights. You never know when inspiration will strike, the best songs seem to just appear out of the ether. We celebrated our creative inspiration by sipping ice-cold, deliciously-invigorating, grape-flavored kombucha, and then we binge-watched The Bear  (yes, it's hilarious and great, and a beautiful ode to Chicago), on Hulu. The series is excellent, and the soundtrack is too. So happy to hear that great, Chicago-based band, Wilco featured throughout. Soul-stirring, ear-pleasing and just wonderful.

By night's end it sounded like an all-out war out there on the Eastern front. Bombs seemingly going off in every direction. The dark sky lit up by colorful, exploding ordinance. It all seemed so grandly silly. What a strange, pointless, ritual. Blowing shit up for no reason. We did our best to tune it out, but the Chinese-made fireworks fueled an imaginary Revolutionary War that raged away in the dark. God Bless America. Our own private day and evening activity seemed so much more fulfilling, soul-enriching & fun. A lot less sound and fury, more laughter and wonder, in tune with our happy, creative mood. Defiantly, joyously, creatively contrary. That's the ticket.

Choosing To Be Here...

Events have conspired over the last few days so that I didn't have to be any place I didn't want to be. Or alternatively, if I was in a place, it was only because I chose to be there, I was not being paid to be anywhere. Kind of a rare thing for me, I am a long-time schlepper and working-stiff.  It was an agreeable state to be in. A hiatus. A break. A breather. A time-out. A mini-vacation. I had lots of time to just drift, meditate, sip coffee, quietly contemplate nothing, listen to music: The Who's Quadrophrenia (1973), Modest Mouse's We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank (2007), Steely Dan's Gaucho  (1980), Brian Eno's fabulous ambient records including: Ambient 2: The Plateaux of Mirror (1980) & Evening Star (Fripp & Eno album) (1975). Masterpiece albums all. 

I also started reading Roberto Bolano The Last Interview and Other Conversations. I am one of those folks who believes that listening to great music, reading great books, paying attention to the great artists is essential, opens our heads and hearts, deepens our souls, makes us better people, and the world a better, more human and inspiring place.

Feeding the head, feeding the heart & soul too. 

I have been on the road to health after my cataclysmic bike crash nearly 3 weeks ago. Eating well. Sleeping well. Religiously using Arnica Gel and Bio-Freeze, two very helpful, healing salves, highly recommended. Surprisingly, I am nearly back to being pain-free. Most of the stiffness and pain has vanished. I am always amazed by the healing powers of a Human Body, including mine.

And the atmosphere around here has taken a turn for the better. We went from Apocalyptic to Pretty Nice. The toxic smoke faded away, the winds changed, the rains came, and suddenly, yesterday it was sunny, clear, and beautiful. We rode our bikes, sat on a bench, laughed and loved the moment to moment. It all seemed like a happy reprieve. Day to day. That's the way to live. Take it as it comes. I do have some appointed rounds today. It is a Holiday for many, but back to being a hired hand for me. But that's OK. The big thing is to keep the game going forward. Head held high. Always onto something.

And Then the Rain Came...

And then the rain came yesterday. A hard, glorious, bounteous rain. The trees, the flowers, the grasses exulted. The little furry critters looked skyward, happy & thankful. The rain came down in buckets, it was constant for a few hours, and it soaked everything. Suddenly, the toxic, smoky air was a distant memory. The humid air was transformed. 

We ventured out, we needed some supplies from the local grocery store. We were out-fitted with rain-gear and umbrellas. Mine was bright red, my friend's was a a leopard print. We made quite the joyously, odd-looking couple. Cartoon characters splashing, dancing, singing in the rain. There were massive puddles, raging streams of water flowing on and thru the streets and sidewalks. We jumped right in, splashed and flashed on the joy of rain.

Never before did a heavy mid-day rain seem so wonderful.  We got home pretty much soaked & soggy, our umbrellas were feeble instruments of shelter, but we were happy and satisfied. My friend actually went back out to visit her garden. She stood next to a little patch of thriving wildflowers which she planted from seeds months ago and let the raindrops fall on her head. The  rest of the day was cloudy & rainy. We stayed in and occupied ourselves with food & music. It was just the sweetest little hiatus imaginable. The right rain shower at the right time and it all seemed perfect.

Fire-works Went Off in My Head...

There is a funny bit that goes on around here. I often proclaim  that something, a book, a movie, a record, a food item, or some activity that I have newly taken up has "changed my life." It often sounds silly when I announce the latest example. It often elicits laugher from the peanut gallery. But it's true. My life changes, sometimes majorly, sometime minorly, often, from a multitude of influences and experiences. I mean, isn't that the point?

Examples? From an early age to now...

Meditation. Running. Bike-riding. Sam Shepard's one-act plays. The Who's "Tommy." The Beatles on TV. Frozen-yogurt, Everything Bagels. David Foster Wallace's "Infinite Jest," Melville's "Moby Dick," Wes Anderson's "Rushmore," all of Kurt Vonnegut's novels, Dylan's "Highway 61," and every other Dylan album too. Sigur Ros' beautiful music,  Roberto Bolano's novels, Patti Smith's "Horses," acting, writing, directing plays, playing guitar, playing in a band, writing songs, singing, etc.

Experiencing/doing/taking in all those things altered me forever. Changed the trajectory of my life, my thinking, my understanding of my self. I am still on the hunt for life-changing influences every day. Yesterday it was a series of sentences that I found on this post from Brain-Pickings, about reason & emotion.

I had a series of "aha" moments reading this post. 

"We ourselves are events in history. Things do not merely happen to us, they happen through us."

Well... right... exactly... and...

"The strength of our opposition to the development of reason is measured by the strength of our dislike of being disillusioned. We should all admit, if it were put to us directly, that it is good to get rid of illusions, but in practice the process of disillusionment is painful and disheartening. We all confess to the desire to get at the truth, but in practice the desire for truth is the desire to be disillusioned. The real struggle centres in the emotional field, because reason is the impulse to overcome bias and prejudice in our own favour, and to allow our feelings and desires to be fashioned by things outside us, often by things over which we have no control. The effort to achieve this can rarely be pleasant or flattering to our self-esteem. Our natural tendency is to feel and to believe in the way that satisfies our impulses. We all like to feel that we are the central figure in the picture, and that our own fate ought to be different from that of everybody else. We feel that life should make an exception in our favour. The development of reason in us means overcoming all this. Our real nature as persons is to be reasonable and to extend and develop our capacity for reason. It is to acquire greater and greater capacity to act objectively and not in terms of our subjective constitution. That is reason, and it is what distinguishes us from the organic world, and makes us super-organic."

Holy Shite! As read all of this I kept thinking: OF COURSE! I mean, I suggest you read the whole thing too. Yikes. Feeling super-organic this morning. We don't just reason the world, we experience it with all our emotions on high. It's not easy. It's a hard thing to be so open and sensitive to all phenomena. But that is what living is about. We are living history, and Universe is flowing and actualizing thru us. We must remain sensitive to everything, even if it seems that the hardness of life will crush us. It's the only way to live: heart/head/soul as one. Open-hearted, open-headed, arms held wide, ready to embrace everything. And what we experience is unique to us, but is not unique. We are just being human, we are the instruments that the Universe uses in which to play and to manifest.

Reading that post yesterday, well, I mean, fire-works went off in my head, my doors of perception blew wide open.  Yes. For sure. Changed my life! Amen Brothers & Sisters!

Swamped? Turn to the Wonder...

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..." - Charles Dickens

You might think you are being swamped by bad news. That seems to be the vibe and theme around here lately all across the Globe. How to keep your head up with a smile on your face? You do not want to be a Happy Idiot, or the Great Pretender, you don't want to be in denial, to put your head in the sand. You can be awake & aware, but at the same time, you have to work a bit to find the positive in the negative, to attend to the Wonder. It is a determined choice to lean to the Light. Maybe takes a bit of gumption. It's that classic Yin/Yang thing. The Dark in the Light, the Light in the Dark. 

Maybe it helps to know that it has always been so. The Darkness in a battle with The Light. Bad Times & Good Times always contending moment to moment.

I'd recommend pulling your horns in a bit. Focus on the small, close to hand things. Do your laundry, sweep the floor, play your guitar, sing a song, listen to cool music (Daft Punk & Steely Dan) on a pair of great audiophile headphones, watch a funny & engaging limited series show on Netflix (Beef). Eat well. Sleep well. Carry yourself with a happy swagger. Attend to business, which is being fully alive with maximum heart and soul. Keep close to laughter. Not the cynical sarcastic kind, instead the true soul-enriching belly-laughs. 

Be Happy to be Alive. Despite the darkness and turmoil. That's the ticket. It is a slender reed, but it's everything. Alive. Still kicking. There is Hope & Joy in the simple momentum of Life. Living. Really. I'm not kidding.

Old Testament Biblical...

Yikes. It has all gone Old Testament Biblical on us now. Plagues, floods, rain of frogs, burning bushes, hell-fire, dogs walking backwards, Human Beings praying to the skies for some relief, and a cold, uncaring Higher Power looking down on the stupid Human Beings with stony-eyes. Yikes. I do think we have "cooked our own goose."  Earth's Vital Signs are Going Haywire.

We have done this to ourselves. No doubt. Yesterday, toxic unbreathable air here in the Heartland, you know, this used to be the land of green-grasses, rolling hills, flower-dotted meadows, the bread-basket for many: corn, wheat, soybeans, etc. Now it's drought, super-humid, boiling-hot, folks are asked to stay inside. I was out and about. It was kind of eerie. The streets were deserted, the air had a toxic-orange tint. I had a bandana around my mouth, an echo of the pandemic lockdown months.

This is not what were thinking when we talked about looking forward to Summer. If it's bad here, we hear that it's worse in other parts of the USA. Yep. We are all connected, everything counts, and now there are consequences to our mindless, all-consuming, don't give fuck, approach to our life-supporting-interconnected, ecosystem. Gaia is under assault, she is a patient with all her vital signs going South. What's that scary phrase you once heard in a hospital: A CASCADE OF FAILURE!

What's next? One of my favorite phrases: A change of consciousness can happen in an instant. There is a smidgen of Hope in that idea. One day Human Beings wake up and realize that everything must change, now. Could that day be coming? Who knows?! It's a bit too toxically-smoky to see what's ahead.

A Slender Thread...

Apocalyptic thinking...

It has always been with us. "The End is Near." Always. Of course, the end is near for all of us. Every day, every era. All the time. Individually the end is just a stilled-heartbeat away.

And those grand Apocalyptic narratives have always been with us too, at least since we could tell each other stories around a campfire. And don't forget that over-heated, over-stuffed, over the top, pretty implausible scenario played out in the Book of  Revelations in the Bible.

Maybe Human Beings have a strange attraction to Apocalyptic stories? Maybe it's similar to the attraction we have to Horror Movies?

Is it fun to be scared? Maybe, if you know it's NOT real. But if it all gets too real, then not so fun. The last few days the air itself is dangerous to our health. Forest fires raging out of control miles away, turning the air into a toxic cloud. Apocalyptic, no doubt.

The Climate Catastrophe is here. It is sort of an apocalypse for our lovely Gaia.  Our Earth Goddess is under threat from Human Beings. It's a sad story. You wonder how it will all play out? 

Will we all wake-up in time and change our ways? At the moment, it's doesn't look likely. In the madness & the idiocy of the times, it seems we are doubling down on the madness and the idiocy. 

I cling to a slender thread of optimism. Not sure how, or why. I guess it's in my nature. But Bad Times are here for sure. Hiding from the day, and the air itself, isn't really an option. So we go forth, and hope for a better day, a better way.

We Didn't Prevent, We Must Adapt...

One of my "mystical insights," yes, I have had a few, is that "everything is connected" / "everything counts." I say mystical insight, because these ideas came to me in a state of heightened awareness, a state where it seemed these things were revealed to me, and I lived them, not that I just made them up myself. Now, of course, I could be mistaken, maybe I did make it all up, but, you know, you experience the experience you experience.

Yesterday, that insight was in the air. Literally, in the air, and all around us. The daylight was dimmed, the temps dipped, the air-quality was rated "bad, dangerous, extremely unhealthy."  Suddenly breathing itself was a dangerous thing. Distant forest fires raging in Ontario, Canada, meant smoky, toxic, air-currents here in a small town on the shores of Lake Michigan.

Usually the air-currents coming from the North are cooler, clearer, invigorating. Yesterday they were stifling, oppressive, unhealthy. I did my usual rounds, navigated the day, in a sort of dizzy haze. Yikes. Welcome to the new normal. Yes. Of course. This is all a result of our Human-Made-Climate-Catastrophe. Anyone telling you otherwise is an Idiot.

A friend on the sidewalk told me her little home-town in Texas was experiencing 120 degree temps yesterday. Another sign. Connected. Right?!  Sure. 

Some folks just ignored it all. They buried their heads in the toxic clouds. Some of us were consumed by sadness and wonder. "Maybe someone should do something?" "How could we let this happen?" "Who knew?" We all knew. And we let it come down anyway. We didn't PREVENT  and now we have to ADAPT. We trashed the place, and now we all must cope with it.

We truly are the Tricky Monkeys. TRICKED!

Progress...

Progress. 

I was debating the merits & the delights of Everything-Bagels and English-Muffins, and which was better than the other, in this post. I have come to the realization that one doesn't need to choose one over the other. One can choose both. One way to solve the conundrum. That has been my aim and method lately. One of each for breakfast. Yes. Sure. Why not? 

Also, after my traumatic bike calamity a couple weeks ago, I finally consummated the trade. I traded in my Ferrari of a bicycle for a Toyota Corolla of a bicycle. It feels so good. An end to a debacle. They were all so very helpful and kind at the bike shop, they basically gave me a full trade-in, I think they too realized I was a danger to myself and to others with that flashy, light, lightening-fast bicycle. So yes, my new wheels and bike frame are heavier, bulkier, more substantial, I now own an ultimate cruiser. 

Feeling better too this a.m. Listening to my body. It is in the process of healing. Which is always amazing. The healing and regenerating powers of the human body are a pretty amazing phenomenon. The last few days in the heartland there is a bit of humidity in the air, and that too seems to help minimize the stiffness of my limbs. Every day feeling a bit better.

I am also practicing what I preach. I am using Arnica to treat my wounds. I am a big believer in the healing power of Arnica gel and cream. I always recommend it to friends and family. Is it all in my head? Is this healing just the placebo effect in action? It is a funny question. Am I healing because I think this useless thing is helping my body heal? To me it points to the power of positive thinking, and how mind/body is one thing. So, yeah, in my experience using Arnica seems to help me in the healing process. So I use it thinking it will help me heal, and, in fact, I do heal, so, you know, whatever?! I mean, it doesn't seem to have any side-effects, so why not?! Maybe it really is a miracle cure?

Music therapy helps too. It's another one of my go-to remedies. Yesterday, late afternoon, a cloudy, slightly-rainy day, I put on my audiophile headphones and submerged into my favorite Flaming Lips albums: Embryonic, The Soft Bulletin, American Head. They are wonderful universes of uncommon  sound. Lots of ear candy floating around in the joyous, over-stuffed, and head-turning, mixes. The Lips are one of the great American bands, no doubt. Creative, trippy, funny, soulful. Their music is powerful, enthralling and engaging. I do believe just by listening, by tuning into these beautifully conceived albums that I am healing myself: heart, head, spirit. Moment to moment. Even if it's all just voodoo, you know, who cares, it seems to work. That's the power of creativity, music & art.

Yes. Progress, indeed.

Staring Off...

Yesterday, we did a little variation of our practice of staring off. Often we find ourselves, my companion and I, on a bench staring off into the great wavy distance of Lake Michigan. It is an activity we adopted and perfected during the Covid-Lockdown months, and well, we have kept up the practice to this day. It's one of our favorite things to do. It really resembles complete goofing off, but, we have come to think of it as essential, important, spiritually re-enforcing, and life-enriching. Sitting on a bench becomes this sort of sacred ritual. We attend to the trees, the breeze, the light, the waves, the human beings of every kind on the path, all floating by like the never-ending river of unrelenting humanity. A rainbow coalition of beings. If you sit in one place long enough, it really does feel like the whole world will come to you and float past you.

Yesterday, we tried something different. We rode our bikes to a shady spot in the park, we found some still sort of green-grass, spread out a blanket, laid back and watched the passing clouds over-head. We reminded each other that we used to do this all the time when we were kids. It was fascinating. Really. There were dark clouds, light clouds, blue sky, all in a dance. There was big wavy tree adding to the excitement too. Sometimes it looked the clouds were moving across the sky, and sometimes it looked like the tree was moving and the clouds were still. It was entertaining and disorienting. We sipped Kombucha drinks and talked about everything, and nothing, under the sun and shade. It was quite the thing. Seems we have become experts at staring off into distances, doing nothing, and by that doing nothing, doing something.  Funny, relaxing, fulfilling & cool. Quite exciting, and fun, too. I am not kidding.

Life-Affirming Moments of Life...

This is how it feels to this Human Being...

A Spiritual Entity, alive in a Material Body, Living in the Material World. Yes Spirit seems real. And all the material that makes up our analog world is real too. 

Yesterday we were alive in the big city. We did the train-to-train-trek, and wandered the sunny sidewalks. Everything was beautiful, vibrant, alive. Three-Dimensional. Maybe even Four-Dimensional. Even the pavement, the city street corners were dazzling and pulsed with energy. We were so in-tune with the day it was almost heart-breaking. When you are in-tune, the moments of a day can be stunningly gorgeous.

We trekked to the Music Box Theatre in Chicago, an extraordinary play-land. A mid-afternoon movie on a summer day. It felt like luxury. A beautiful, shining movie-palace. A throw-back to an era when movies were big, and the only way to take them in was on a big screen. The Music Box is a true Chicago treasure. New, plush seats, a spic & span lobby. A bounty of concessions. Lively, thriving, fun. 

And don't forget the Music Box Organ and House Organist Denis Scott:   "The current instrument uses state of the art digital sampling to realistically recreate the sound of the theatre pipe organs of the 1920s. It was custom designed by house organist Dennis Scott and built by his husband Thom Day. The console you see is from an original Kimball pipe organ built in Chicago in 1929, the year the Music Box opened. It has twenty four audio channels. Twelve 200 watt per channel stereo amplifiers send signals to ten speakers in the left (main) chamber and fourteen speakers in the right (solo) chamber. There are individual samples of every pipe, percussion and sound effect, all carefully voiced and balanced for the room."

Amazing. And thrilling. Just sitting in your seat, listening to the organ, waiting for the film to start, is a real kick in the pants. And what did we see? "Asteroid City," Wes Anderson's latest film. Funny. Beautiful. Inspiring. Inventive. Dazzling. Quirky. Cool. My friend and I noticed that much of the audience looked like characters in a Wes Anderson film. Maybe that included us too. The fiercely creative spirit of the film was reflective of the creative spirit of the audience. 

Afterwards, satisfied and happy, we trekked back home, it was still a day. We got on our bikes and took a long ride on the lakefront. It was over-stuffed with humans of every kind. We found a quiet spot on a little grassy hill and watched the big, beautiful, lake, surging with energy, dotted with sailboats. They looked like toys, floating in a massive body of water.

Later, in the evening, when we hit the pillows, we both remarked how time had pretty much crawled along all day. Moment to moment to moment. The moments each alive and discrete, revealing their bounty and treasure. Second by second. Yeah. Really. Spiritually fulfilling. That was pretty cool. Life-affirming too. It was a very good day floating thru the moment to moment as a Spiritual Being Living in the Material World.

Wild News From Russia...

Oh my goodness. 

Wild news from Russia. Looks like a mutiny. A Russian Mercenary Army in a battle against Russian Regular forces. Release the "Dogs of War,"  and, well, sometimes, there can be unexpectedly severe unintended consequences. Suddenly the invulnerable, confident, all-powerful Russian Dictator doesn't seem so invulnerable, confident or all-powerful. What happens next?! Who knows?!? 

That great Jimmy Cliff song is running thru my head this morning: "The Harder They Come, The Harder They Fall." I say, let it come down. I can't help reaching back to the Boldly Biblical:  

"Live by the sword, die by the sword" is a proverb in the form of a parallel phrase, derived from the Gospel of Matthew (Matthew 26, 26:52): "Then said Jesus unto him, Put up again thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword."

Amen, Brother...

Random A.M. Musings...

Random Musings...

Greed is not good. 

Human Civilization has now entered the Apotheosis of High-Bullshit Era.

The grass in the Heartland is being reduced to cracked earth & burnt straw. Think: massive system-wide drought.

The Climate Catastrophe is Here/Now. It is not a movie, it is not entertainment.

The Tricky Monkeys have Out-Tricked Themselves, and it is very not funny in a kind of funny way.

There may be a formula written on our man-made toxic & noxious wind: As the Climate Catastrophe rolls out across the planet, the Bullshit/Disinformation tsunami will only grow & get worse. A mutually self-fulfilling fatal embrace.

Gaia is suffering from a grave illness: Human Greed, Selfishness, Close-minded-ness, Industrialization, Population out of control (like a Cancer). We should have tried our best to avoid the illness, there were major alarms & signals in the late 60's & early 70's, but instead we doubled-down on an unsustainable path.

"They paved Paradise, and put up a parking lot." - Joni Mitchell. And now that parking lot is a crackling and smoking heap of rubble.

The traits that allowed us to flourish, prosper and dominate are the same traits that are dooming us to an apocalyptically in-hospitable environment. Way to go Tricky Monkeys!

What's a Humble Pilgrim to do? Carry on with a heavy heart. 

You may hate to be a member of a club that will have you as a member. But it is impossible to extricate yourself from the madness.

Human Beings, we are failing, ok, have failed. Miserably. We could have all done so much better. Have a nice day!

*** Personal Note: Maybe not the most important thing in the world right now. There are two kinds of days around here. Good Hair Days and Bad Hair Days. What's kind of funny, the worse I feel, the better my hair looks. Maybe it's a defensive mechanism to keep the predators confused?! Today happens to be a Good Hair Day. My hair happily waving in the storms of catastrophe. Oh, so human. Damn the Torpedoes!

A Neo-Pagan Celebration...

It was a lightening, last-minute decision. "Let's go to the Summer Solstice Celebration at the pond on the lakefront." And, so, we did. We brought beverages and drums, shakers and tambourines. We walked there, a long snaking walk thru the neighborhood. We were both exhausted, it really was the longest day of the year, but we were compelled to go forth.

We arrived upon a wild scene. Fire Dancers whirling & twirling implements of fire. A large drum-circle with every kind of drum imaginable. Experienced & serious drummers, and a few pikers too. We were in the "piker's camp." I don't consider myself much of a drummer.  My partner is more accomplished. I basically do a plodding "Shaman's beat." Nothing fancy, but kind of hypnotizing. We both locked in for the night, 2.5 hours of drumming. There were Celtic drums, African drums, Middle-Eastern-Style Drums, cowbell, triangle, gong. There was an old Jazz Trumpeter who once in a while added "Bitches Brew" era Miles Davis flourishes to the madly, wilding surging and sometimes fading drum cavalcade.

The sun set in the West, and a sliver of a crescent Moon emerged. A boldly shining Venus too. As the darkness enveloped us,  the Fire Dancers upped their game: lager torches, larger, wilder flames, trickier, more elaborate, entrancing moves. There were a few nubile, extraordinarily-beautiful, truly-stunning young women, dancing and prancing and wielding fire like other-worldly, dragon-tamers.

It was all so very, gloriously, Neo-Pagan. My friend turned to me with a sly, mischievous, smile and asked: "Is this the Devil's work?" I replied: "Yes, it is." Hell is just another name for the Earth's hearth. It was all quite exciting & fun. For the grand finale the Fire Dancers drank some unknown flammable liquid and then blew on their massive torches of flame. Large, billowing flames shooting from their mouths off into the dark, night sky. Amazing. Crazy. Don't try this at home. It was all so primal and pretty damn cool. Pagan Summer is here.

Leisure & Work...

Today is officially the first day of Summer (the longest day of the year). Warmer temps, the day meets you and caresses you with welcoming fingers. The last few days we've been practicing Summer. Spending lots of time on the lakefront, wandering the paths and streets, sitting on our favorite bench, taking in the blue skies and surging waters. I told someone yesterday that I felt like Tom Sawyer or Huckleberry Finn. A young wanderer.  Observing, taking in the passing scene. I wear the years on my body, but all those years sort of melt away in the moment to moment. There is an innocence to be found in a long Summer day. Days of work and leisure. Hard to tell which is which. Maybe the trick is to make leisure your work? And work your leisure?

Non-Attachment/Detachment...

Funny. The Buddhists tell us that Life is Suffering. 

So best to adopt a finely-honed "non-attachment, or detachment... a state in which a person overcomes their emotional attachment to or desire for things, people or worldly concerns and thus attains a heightened perspective. It is considered a wise virtue and is promoted in various Eastern religions, such as Hinduism, Jainism, Taoism and Buddhism. It is also a key concept in Christian spirituality (often referred to by the Greek term apatheia), where it signifies a detachment from worldly objects and concerns."

Sometimes easier said than done. Funny. I was injured in a bike accident about a week ago, and I am living with pain. Not overwhelming, but significant. It's worst when I am stationary, eases up when I move about. This new state of pain has propelled me into a certain non-attachment, a certain detachment. 

My body is in an unhappy state, but my head-space seems more expansive, more studied, more contemplative. Weird. I am stopping to smell the roses. Spending lots of time under that big blue sky, staring off into the great horizon over a surging body of water.  I am keeping busy, but I am sort of floating thru the motions of the day. Not trying to hold onto, or grasp, anything. 

I feel like I faced a catastrophe and walked away. Almost a renewal of life. A new life with pain, but life in all it's technicolor bounty. Every day is a step forward to healing. I suppose that's in the back of my mind. But I am detached even from that mind-set. Still alive. That's it.

Secret Garden Time...

We took to coasting (see previous post), as a high-art-form over the last few days. We tooled around on bikes, slowly, methodically, with a slight vertigo of PTSD (trauma in the body), as the result of a nasty bike accident (yes, still riding my flashy racing bike, my clunky cruiser is on order), nearly a week ago. We found ourselves sitting in the sunshine in various locations: lakefront bench, secluded backyard, propped up against a massive stone wall. We also spent lots of time listening to music on an incredibly powerful and beautifully-dimensional home stereo system at the big mansion on the lake. Our playlist: ambient music from Brian Eno, remastered versions of Steely Dan's catalog of albums (yes, still on a Steely Dan kick),  plus Mogwai's  great "Happy Songs for Happy People,"  fabulous soul-enriching music. We were happy people coasting on chill vibes. We watched the puffy clouds floating in the blue, the trees dancing in the breeze, little pretty critters scamping around in the flora and fauna. Time both stood-still and swam past us in a blink. For long stretches of time we were lost in a private, secret garden.

The Many-Splendored State of Coasting...

Coasting, as in,  to proceed easily without special application of effort or concern. Nothing wrong with it. Coasting can often be delightful: easy-going, moving with grace & fluidity, to sail along the shore, to slide, run, or glide downhill by the force of gravity. Yes. Indeed. The many-splendored state of coasting. To move along without, or as if without, further application of propulsive power. That sounds like music and magic to my ears.

Dream Baby, Dream...

If you are like me, your eyes glaze over when someone starts telling you about their dreams. For some reason, our dreams are usually brain-numbing to other people, except those folks who are paid to pay attention and care, you know, like professional "head-shrinkers." It's also a bit deflating when you watch a movie, or read a story, and you find out at the end that "It was a all just a dream." Somehow that always comes across as lazy story-telling. Kind of a cheat.

Dreams are just so damn personal. 

My dreams are often quite jumbled & surreal. Written, Directed and Filmed by an incompetent, or wildly drugged-out avant-garde sensibility. Last night I was a passenger on the Titanic. That ill-fated, ice-berg-crashed ship. I was tossed and turned along with everyone else on-board, a little rag doll in the grips of a major catastrophe. I was sure I was doomed, that feeling of doom and total disintegration swamped me; my body was pummeled by an unrelenting & overwhelming force. I am pretty sure I know why I was having this dream, (see the last few previous posts), I really did experience this kind of thing in "real life," a lightening-quick episode of mayhem and doom and disintegration, but I survived it all in reality and in my dream-world too. In the dream, I floated up above the scene of destruction. I emerged into a blazing, golden light, unscathed, un-maimed. This morning that feeling of wholeness and good feeling, of surviving the worst of the worst of things, surges thru me. Escaping the maiming, that's a good one. Your eyes are probably glazing over right now, Jeezus, it was just a dream! Yep. But so, so true and meaningful, at least to me.

"The Bruce Wayne of Leashes..."

Magnificent show be damned. I mean, yes, it was totally, madly, deeply magnificent (see previous post), but then, it is over. You can't hold onto it. There is a glow, a sense of accomplishment, the knowledge and experience of a well-made, well-done happening, but then, it's done and gone.

I told someone yesterday, speaking off the top of my head, no idea what words would pop out: "By night, a r&r Batman, by day, The Bruce Wayne of Leashes." Ha, ha, ha. Very funny. Sometimes I really crack myself up.

How does that magnificence translate into the wider world? Invisible. Maybe tiny invisible threads, or frequencies, vibrations that emanate out and beyond our own home-bound bodies? At least that's a mystical thought-train of consolation.

"It is what it is." The show. It's enough that we did it. We carry that in our bones. Does it get any better than that? Probably not worth musing about. Onto the next thing. That's it.

The Healing Power of Art & Music...

Last night our band played at an amazing music room to a wildly enthusiastic & packed to the rafters house. It was total, pure joy. You know, words that floated in the air after our performance included: transcendent, ecstatic, beautiful, inspiring, joyful, powerful.

I was surprised that I was able to play a full set of music, for the most part, without any pain (see previous post). It is a testament to the power of the creative thing.  I mean, for most of the set, I didn't feel a thing, I just floated on the power of our band, and the love emanating from the audience. Amazing.

All day yesterday I was high on caffeine, ibuprofen, adrenaline, and good vibes. All our energy was pointed forward to show-time. I was determined to play at my ultimate best, come hell or high-water. My body cooperated. I kept my fingers limber. All the pain and stiffness in my body melted away. The only time I felt a twinge of stiffness and residual pain was on the 2nd to last song of our set. It was that F-Major Barre Chord on my big, old clunky acoustic guitar that reminded me I that I had just survived a very nasty bike accident.

No one except my partner and I knew that I was playing injured. That's pretty damn cool. I mean, we often talk about the healing power of art and music, but last night it was a reality.  Abrasions? Contusions? Bruises? Soreness? All vanished in the beauty and the light of a radiant performance, and an out-pouring of love. A bit tired and sore and stiff this a.m. but exhilarated too. Funny & fabulous.

Life is Learning Lessons...

And what is the lesson? If we don't learn from our experiences doesn't it mean then that we are Deserving Idiots? Other useful descriptors: Moron, Fool, Clown, Dolt.

I nearly killed myself on my very light, very fast, very, very cool bike (see previous post) on Monday. It's a flashy racing bike that I have been using for tooling around town. It is certainly the wrong tool for my needs. I didn't realize how truly, madly, deeply that purchase was so dangerously foolish and wrong until I found myself on the pavement in a bloody heap. I did the inventory this morning, beaten, bruised, stiff, creaky. It feels like someone took a baseball bat to key parts of my body. Not the lesson I wanted.

I also marvel at how I didn't break a bone, a wrist, a finger, didn't crack my head. Sure, I have a few nasty contusions and abrasions, but man, oh man, did I dodge a silver bullet? Yes, indeed.

Yesterday I rolled the bike back to the bike shop, told them my tale of woe: in the face of a wildly careening car, I was riding too fast, braked too hard, went flying over handlebars onto the hard, blacktop. Sure, I'll admit, it  was a case of operator error. But the design of the bike too, sort of lends itself to a "catapult effect," (the bike stopped on a dime, the rider's momentum sent him flying forward towards oblivion), I am sure there is some mathematical equation that explains it all: Speed x Momentum x Stupidity = Mayhem.  The catapult effect. I came up with that catchy phrase myself.

I worked out a trade. I am going to trade the cool, flashy one for an older, heavier, much clunkier model. That is so much more in line with me. That's the lesson. I think about all of my most prized possessions: a big old clunky acoustic guitar, an old, bulky, Sony Walkman, a pair of old, reliable Grado Headphones, those little old-tech shining CDs, old beat Levis, old beat Timberland Boots, an ancient coffeemaker, a homely Fender Telecaster electric guitar, a classic, old tube amp, a classic home stereo system with big clunky components & old-world speakers. Everything I truly value is old, clunky, a bit beat, a bit slow to the tempo of the world flashing around me. I am all those things too. Lesson learned. Happy to be alive to recount the the tale. Be less like the fast & flashy Hare, and more like the slow and methodical, one step at a time Turtle.  Slow, methodical, beat, clunky. Yes, that's the ticket.

"Slow Down, You're Moving Too Fast, Got to Make the Moment Last..." - Paul Simon

Monday. The plan for the day was healing and renewal. I was taking my cues from a voice in the night (see previous post). It didn't work out that way. Maybe it was a premonition, I will need to heal and save myself.  Starting now. Tooling down the avenue on my bike, cut off by a wildly, hard-turning vehicle, I slammed on the brakes, and catapulted over my handlebars. Yikes. It all happened so fast. I found myself sprawled out on the pavement. Amazingly, I didn't break anything. Bruised and bloodied but still ticking. The vehicle and driver saw the mayhem and just drove off in a trail of dust. That's America, Buddy. It's an Urban Jungle out there. I am beginning to think my shiny new bike is too fast and too light for me. Made me think of that Eagles song:

"Life in the fast lane, surely make you lose your mind

Life in the fast lane, uh-huh

Life in the fast lane, everything all the time

Life in the fast lane, uh-huh..."

Joe Walsh's electric guitar is electric.  Yes. Slow down. That's the lesson swirling in my head this morning. Lucky to still be in one piece.

A Disembodied Presence...

A long, murky, dead-man's-like sleep last night. No tossing, no turning. Out like a light for a very restful sleep. There were two sentences that wafted over me in the black night. Not sure who, or what, spoke the dream-like words that floated over and around my sleeping form. An unidentified, disembodied presence spoke to me: "Save Yourself." & "Heal Yourself." Ha. Sounds like good advice. Feeling a bit renewed & recharged this morning...

Not So Bright Tricky Monkeys Tricked Out with the Worst of Intentions...

The quote below is from "All the President's Men," (1974) Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein. All about our crooked President Tricky Dick and his henchmen.

Deep Throat: "No, heh, but it's touching. Forget the myths the media's created about the White House. The truth is, these are not very bright guys, and things got out of hand."

Seems relevant to Blimp Guy and his henchmen today. Actually seems relevant to much of our Human Activity (see the unfolding consequences of our Global Climate Catastrophe, and addiction to Fossil Fuels.)  Of course, not only not bright,  but super-corrupt too. Tricky Monkeys tricked out with the worst of intentions.

"Not very bright, and things got out of hand."

Yep. Dear Earthlings, we can all do so much better. WTF?!?