The Inhumanity Humanity has Wreaked on Humanity...

You could write a book on the Inhumanity Humanity has wreaked on Humanity. No. A book probably wouldn't do the trick. It would have to be a series of books. Like a set of encyclopedias. Over-sized, hefty tomes, rolled out in alphabetical order. It would be a long record and a catalog of atrocity. Every horror you can imagine, and even some horrors beyond imagining would be documented.  No one would want to read it, of course, I mean, just reading those books would be an atrocity in itself.  Bottom-line, safe to say, and basically, way more pithy and concise is Walt Kelly's famous line from Pogo:

Dreaming Failure...

Hard to understand…

A fun, relaxing, fruitful holiday weekend; good food, long walks, watched Peter Jackson's 3 part totally FAB doc on The Beatles, had a productive songwriting session, and recorded demos of three brand-new songs. 

You'd think I would have slept like a baby last night. Maybe so, but this baby had vivid dreams of failure, and upset. Fired again from a job I once got fired from many years ago. Re-lived the defeat, the shame, the stupidity, the anger, the fast and furious nature of the human quandary. Spending dream-time with my enemies, and my Nemesis. Yikes. Why did I find myself there? 

I have no idea. I woke up this morning and briefly thought I had to scramble to find new employment, then, with one breath, I realized "It's just a dream." I am still in Kansas.

Before sleep took me, I was reading a book, a famous book, one that I won't name. It's a good book, well-intentioned, nicely written, based on a true story, but I put it down and realized I won't finish it. I suppose that seems like a bit of a failure on my part. 

Why won't I finish it? It's a hard story. Maybe it turns out well, but right now it goes like this page by page: Human Atrocity, Human Atrocity, Human Atrocity, Etc.  I am sure there is an uplighting payoff, but I just don't have the heart and the mind to get there. The atrocities pile-up and I just can't do it.

So I put the book down and vow to never open it again. Maybe that's a little failure that provoked the dream? I don't know. Maybe the Beatles saga made me think of success and failure, and the passing of time, and hope and dreams and nightmares and crushing blows? I don't know. I don't know the workings of my own mind.

Maybe the dream was a helpful tool? Washing my mind, opening me up? This morning, I am a little fuzzy-headed, but it's a new day. Who knows what's up with today? Maybe something will turn up?

Next?

A sunny Sunday morning. What more can you hope for? Ok, well, a Universe of things. But, you know, sometimes a quiet Sunday morning is just enough.  Actually, not so quiet. Playing the Beatles "White Album" (1968) on the box. The pinnacle of Pop. Nothing better. The standard everything else is judged against. Feeling chipper. There is beauty, harmony, good cheer in the air this a.m.  Wonder what happens next?

Dreaming...

Dreaming about things going wrong. Shit happens. You are a witness. How to process the wrongness? We are like ecosystems, a collection of cells, organs, processes. Trying to keep balanced, our eyes on the ball, looking towards the horizon, looking for the evidence of light, beauty, harmony. There are small deaths everywhere. It's all part of it. Just an on-going process. There is the churn, the hurly-burly. A constant dance all around us and within us. Dreaming. Shit happens. Dreaming.

Medicine...

 Unplugging. Totally. That is sometimes the best medicine. 

Giving Thanks Day!

Ahhh... well... maybe best to just chill out today. It's Giving Thanks Day!  I have lots to be thankful for...

Breathing freely

Still in one piece

No broken bones

Still have all my fingers & toes

Roof over my head

A close companion 

Food on the table

Coffee Machine works

Music on the box - The Pizzicato Five's "The International Playboy & Playgirl" (1998) FUN!

It's Okay to Cry...

The longer I have had this "being a Human Being" gig, the easier it is for me to get to tears. I think it's a positive development. Turns out the days I start out in the kitchen crying my eyes out, emerge as soulfully beautiful days.

Why cry?

I would answer that question with another question...

Are you paying attention? 

I think of that old 10cc line, "Big Boys Don't Cry" and well, I think that's a "lie in our collective space." Nothing wrong with crying. Boys cry, men cry. Nothing to be ashamed of, in fact, probably very necessary for our mental health and well-being.

As I get older I get more pliable. More open-hearted/open-headed. Dylan's line comes to mind: "I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now..."

Right. Events conspire. Some events are just unpalatable. You can't take them in, you can't explain them away, you can't really contain, or tame them. 

Tears. Really.  A lyric from one of my band's songs: "My tears will be the rain..." 

Yes, indeed, Often tears are the only correct response.

Tiny Chaos...

Chaos...

You think

maximal

But think

minimal

a breath

a cell 

a moment

a flash

a break

a fall

a blip

a miscommunication

a brief

moment in time

sends everything

reeling

in a new direction

for good

and bad

i mean

if you 

believe in

good

and 

bad

We Must Try...

Count me in as "Woke" - meaning 'alert to racial prejudice and discrimination' that originated in African-American Vernacular English (AAVE). Beginning in the 2010s, it came to encompass a broader awareness of social inequalities such as sexism, and has also been used as shorthand for left-wing ideas involving identity politics and social justice, such as the notion of white privilege and slavery reparations for African Americans.

Sure. All of that sounds reasonable. I mean, just look around. Prejudice, discrimination, inequality, sexism, white privilege all seem undeniable. And pernicious. Sort of the social aquarium we all swim in. Social Justice is a worthy goal. We all need to do better.

But I refuse to part of any mob. An unthinking, emotional, angry group of people. Not for me. I tend to want to head for the hills. That kind of human herding instinct is not my thing. No piling on. Don't need to do any "shooting fish in a barrel."

"Justice is a game." - Bob Dylan

Indeed. Again, look around. It's a game we human beings play. We need to do better. Maybe there really is no justice in this world, but we must try!

Not My Tribe...

I played guitar in one of my bands last night. The noisy, raw, garage-rock one. I felt alienated & a bit surly. I was masked up, and I wore a zip-up fleece jacket. All black. I felt like I was wearing armor. Maybe it was all in my head. I was putting up my defenses. I am vaxxed and boosted, but I still have a hazy, nebulous fear of encountering Covid-19. All the stories I hear, and they are many, is that the virus is not something you really want to tangle with. I have my own normal breathing issues, I have seen what the virus can do to a human being's lungs. Not good. And the death toll keeps rising, and because there are nearly 41 million Americans who are still not vaxxed, the pandemic is nowhere near over. 

So, playing music in a bar full of young, unmasked, and who knows if they are vaxxed, human beings, just seemed too Edgar Allen Poe "Masque of the Red Death" to me. Yikes. I was there, trying not to be there. It made for an unsatisfying performance. The best moments were when I kind of got lost conjuring up some weird-ass, in the moment guitar solos. Messy, rambling, my fingers searching for the next note like a blindman in the dark.

I wasn't the only person wearing a mask, one of the female bartenders wore one, and one other person had one on, but this was a packed to the rafters drunken horde of Saturday night revelers. Gave me the creeps. As soon as our set was over, I packed my gear and headed to the street. I bolted out of there and grabbed a Lyft back home. "There's no place like home." I felt like Dorothy, back in Kansas. My own humble abode. Happy to be with my loved ones, happy to be far from the madding crowd. I am being overly-dramatic, too cautious, too much fear? I don't know. Out of step, yes, I felt out of step with that crowd of human beings.  Not my tribe.

Watching the Noise Machine Push our Buttons 24/7!

Yikes. If you can retreat to the calm center of your head, (you know, it's a meditation technique), you can get a bit of distance and perspective on the wild-ass flow of events & information that threatens to engulf you any given day. The 24/7 Noise Machine is geared to trumpet and blare and fire you up, push all of your buttons, make you pissed-off, sad, hopeless, helpless & overwhelmed. It's not an evil machine, just a noisy one that feeds on eyeballs, clicks, and emotionally grueling events. If you can do a strategic retreat from your emotions by keeping your head, trying to maintain a certain calmness, you can watch the mechanism at work and observe which buttons are being pushed, and just by that knowing, you dissipate some of the effect. Just knowing that it is all just a mechanism, a process, geared to play with your emotions, to engage you, to enrage you, to entice you to continue to watch the car-crash over and over, to wring your hands, to look to the heavens, to weep and lament, you are already defusing, deflating, de-magnetizing the button.  Sometimes events unfurl before you and all you can really say: WTF? Holy Shite?!? What is wrong with Human Beings? Then you sit in your calm center and tell yourself, I can do better. And the crazy, stupid, noisy ones will not get to me.  I mean, hell, it's worth trying a more healthy way of consuming the unpalatable shite that flows in the Human Game.

Wild and Weird...

One thing I got wrong in my last post, (see previous post), the sunrises over here next to the lake are much more impactful. Get up early and you can watch this enormous, amazing, unfathomable ball of flame rising up over the lake. You can say to yourself, "That's the Sun." But, you know, that doesn't quite capture the glory, the mystery, the mind-boggling truth of it.

You can't help feeling a bit like one of those over-matched Apes in Stanley Kubrick's "2001: A Space Odyssey". Something is going on. Not exactly sure what. But something. You can't deny that there are forces much bigger than you, doing the things they do. All you can do is be a silent witness and either take in the beauty, the power, the glory, and the smallness of our human world, or retreat into your own cloudy cluelessness. See the sunlight bleeding across the water. Now that is a force. That is a power. That is wild and weird. And they say that flaming ball gives life to all life on this spinning globe. 

Distinguished Gent of the Manor...

Sure. Everything is bigger, plusher, cushier, better-made, more substantial, more textured, more impressive when you are luxuriating in the lap of luxury (see previous post).  Is there anything better than being filthy rich in this over-stuffed, fully-saturated capitalistic empire? Probably not.

But, you know, the sunrise here is pretty much like the sunrise in my humble flat. The brisk morning air in my lungs is basically the same. The Love Buzz coffee brew does it's magic just the same too. Yes, I am drinking out of a beautiful Mexican-made coffee mug, which looks like a work art, but, still the experience of drinking and the energizing aftermath is pretty much the same as when I am sipping brew in my own kitchen. My swimming head is swimming just the same.

A million thoughts in my head this morning, feeling well-rested. Yes, it's true, in my guest bed, the pillows are fluffier, and the sheets a little silkier, but the thoughts that are zipping around in my head like little tiny gnats zigging, zagging, dancing are pretty much the same thoughts as most mornings. Who am I? How did I get here? Wonder what the day will bring? 

It's blue skies around here. The same sky we all dream and scheme beneath. Dreaming and scheming this morning. And I am still blasting that great Peter Gabriel recording (see yesterday's a.m. soundtrack). I am stuck with my own thoughts, my own tastes, my own worries and doubts, although, to be honest, I must say, no worries & doubts so far today. I am the the distinguished gent of the manor. Relatively happy and healthy. I am living here, but I don't pay for the upkeep, or the property taxes. That's a pretty good deal right there.

Surfing the Wealth...

I live in a high-income-earner neighborhood. Not the highest in the land, probably not close, considering the wide-disparity of wealth in America, but you know, a really high-income-earner neighborhood. I am not a high-income-earner. I just happen to live here. It's a great, comfortable little town fronting Lake Michigan. It is a Big-Ten University town. Lots of children of wealth from all over the world live here during the school year, going to the big prestigious University.

There are some fabulous homes here. As you get closer to the lake, the homes get bigger, plusher, more magnificent. It's hard to imagine how folks are able to afford these places, but, you know, they are high-income-earners. They live in a place different than most Americans. A different head-space, a different wallet-space, a different band account, and stock portfolio space.

My companion and I? We are outliers. On the margins. Just barely scraping by. Sometimes it all seems like smoke and mirrors. We are working stiffs. And that's okay. Doing honest jobs for honest bucks. Not the best bang for the buck, but you know, there is no guilt or shame in just getting by with our hearts, heads, and souls fairly unscathed.

I sometimes do house-sitting, pet-sitting gigs. It's sort of like Surfing the Wealth. I live in an extraordinary mansions, I go thru the motions like they are my kingdoms, at least for a few days. I get to experience an overabundance of wealth. Try it on for size. Briefly. Everything is better. No doubt. Bigger, more luxurious, everything works, everything seems like the best of the best. You just sink into it and accept it.

Yes, I understand that wealth means quality, really top-notch, peerless quality. It is easy to adjust to it. If I am a Surfer of Wealth, and I believe I am, it is like  surfing the best most remote spot you've ever surfed. The waves are magnificent, they carry you, they caress you, there are no spiky edges, no scary parts to swamp over you.

I don't really belong here. But, I can experience this experience of wealth. I can live it to the max for a few days. It's an odd existence. But, you know, there are worse ways of trying to make a buck.

Surfing the Wealth, with humility and focus. Gladly doing my job.

The a.m. soundtrack - Peter Gabriel's "Scratch My Back" (2010) I listened to a critic totally rip this album, as a big let-down when it came out. It actually prevented me from purchasing it at the time. WTF. To my ears it is totally magnificent. So glad I just took a chance on it. It is a covers album, some of the finest songs in our great music catalog. No drums, no guitars, just Peter Gabriel's voice and a full orchestra. Songs by Neil Young, David Bowie, Paul Simon, Arcade Fire, Randy Newman, Lou Reed, Radiohead. Play this in the mansion by the lake at a healthy volume, on the finest sound system imaginable, with speakers arrayed throughout the whole place and well, it will fire you up, great music to write to; it is enriching, inspiring, beautiful. Critic be damned! 

The Sea...

"The Sea of Possibilities..." - Patti Smith

Yes. We swim in that sea. Every day is sort of a like a coin flip. Maybe every moment of every day. One false step, one right turn, one word wrong, one perfect gesture. The margin between success and failure is paper-thin. There is a thin fabric of all possible outcomes.

We make our choices, take our steps, do the back-stroke or the butterfly in tumultuous waters. It ain't easy. Lots of uncertainty. And often there are shit-storms, swirling vortexes, scary undertows, but you know, some times things flow, and we fly, and the sun shines down on us and it's all smiles and laughter. It's all kindness, goodness and peaceful water. The either, the or, the whatever...

Balancing Balance...

They say, it's about Balance. And you know, we, our bodies, are like little ecosystems matriculating in a grand series of larger interlocking ecosystems.  There is Energy in all it's various forms; the intake, the outtake, the ebb and flow, the light and shadow. Life and Death are inextricably linked. And in the midst of all this to-ing and fro-ing, we need to keep our shit together, try to keep a clear head, a clear vision. As Kermit the Frog once sang: "It ain't easy being green..."

Bifurcated...

Human Beings, incredibly smart and incredibly stupid...

Message from a Cat...

Message from a Cat...

I mean, you know, right?!?

Influencer...

Reflective mood this a.m. 

Came across this photo. To be honest, this guy, smoking and obsessively typing into that clunky little machine opened my head in High School. Set me on a totally different trajectory. Slaughter House Five, Breakfast of Champions, Cat's Cradle, The Sirens of Titan, etc... KV Lives!

I didn't take up smoking. Turns out I enjoyed breathing freely and easily; inhaling hot smoke into my lungs just never appealed to me, but typing into a typewriter? Yes, well, that was something I really, really wanted to do, and something I spent a lot of time doing. The man opened me up to other ways of seeing the world. He also made me laugh, and think. Inspiring. Influential. 

Yes, the man's work changed my life, no doubt. Sent me reeling into a totally new spin. Still spinning, even this a.m.

The A. M. Soundtrack - "Maggot Brain" (1971) by Funkadelic. Yes. This is an appropriate complement to KV's world. Head-opening. Funny. Trippy. Super-funky. The essence of extreme cool.

Care at least a little...

Yes. It seems simple. Do good shit. Care at least a little. Try to not break shit. Instead, try to fix shit. Try in any little way possible to make the world a better place. Don't get too uppity. One step at time. Figure you have lots to learn, and that much of what you think you "know" is wrong, arbitrary, and most likely subject to reassessment. 

Humility & Grace in everything you do. 

None of this is hard. We just need to be decent Human Beings, with a bit of common-sense. Open-eyed, open-headed, open-minded. Think about Love and all the people and things that light up inside when we conjure up that word. Let's roll up our sleeves, pitch in, and try to make things work a bit better.

"Empathy is the fuel of democracy," President Joe Biden says. It's an "under-appreciated aspect of what makes governments work when they work."

Mitochondria Calling the Shots!

This Nick Paumgarten article about Energy in the latest New Yorker is just the best: 

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2021/11/08/energy-and-how-to-get-it

I realize Nick and I have lots in common. We are both long-time Dead Heads, be sure to read his fabulous write-up about The Grateful Dead here: https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2012/11/26/deadhead

And we are both obsessed about the topic, subject and form of Energy. 

What is it? Where does it come from? Where does it go? How can I get it? Or how do I get it back? How can I better manage it?

Of course, it's a great write-up, funny, informative, and it turns out that the more you look, the more you see, the less clear things become. Kind of like everything else in the Universe.

Energy. It animates everything. But it is a elusive, mysterious. It all goes back to Mitochondrial Eve, you know 

"the matrilineal most recent common ancestor (MRCA) of all living humans. In other words, she is defined as the most recent woman from whom all living humans descend in an unbroken line purely through their mothers and through the mothers of those mothers, back until all lines converge on one woman."

Right. Earth Mama.  

Nick writes, and our heads start exploding:

"It’s not inconceivable that the rest of the body (brain, hands, heart, lungs, digestive tract) is merely an elaborate and sometimes clumsy apparatus for the nourishment of the mitochondria—that it is the mitochondria, and not Homo sapiens, who rule and foul the earth. Our cardiovascular system, that fantastic and vulnerable machine, is essentially a delivery system for the oxygen they require. The mitochondrion is the creature and we are merely its husk, its fleshy chrysalis. A newborn’s first breath? That’s the mitochondria, calling the shots."

So, yeah, back to the poets. Wm. Blake: Energy is Eternal Delight.  

Mojo. It's all about the Mojo... and the mitochondria!

The Byword: Gentle...

I am an excitable boy, (hat-tip to Warren Zevon), no doubt. I gravitate to fire. I hold fire in my hand every morning I fill my coffee cup up with a dark, invigorating brew. I like the feeling of energy flowing thru my body. I like to hype myself up. I like to animate my being. I do live with that William Blake idea: Energy is Eternal Delight.

Still, I can be over-bearing. I fill myself up, I become a raging river, and I can easily overflow the banks. I mean, I can be over-bearing even to me. Every cell in my body lit up, firing away, an army of cells looking for action. Sometimes, it is in this state where I really get myself into trouble. Say or do something provocative and stupid.

Stir shit up. Mess with the hornet's nest. The thoughts tumbling around in my head like an out of control dryer locked in the tumble cycle. Words pour out of me onto the page or into the air. God knows what I'm gonna say next. Even I am often surprised by the words that come pouring from my mouth.

Yikes.

My companion tells me "gentle" is the new byword. Ok. Yes. Gentle. Maybe I will take a psychic chill-pill. Take it down a notch. Say less. Turn inward. The flames are flaring away, but you know, this morning I am turning burners down a bit. I have so much to say about the world, politics, the culture wars raging in toxic media-scape, but well, I choose the gentle path, this morning, silence is golden.

Double-Nature...

A little vignette...

Yesterday. Golden. A golden fall day. The light is golden, I think, because of the tilt of planet Earth in relation to the Sun. A golden light falls upon everything. Leaves are dying, and bursting into gorgeous colors, the leaves are dry, multi-colored, blowing in the wind. The lesson: death comes as unexpected beauty.

Walking a little furry critter. Mid-day. The lake is like a smooth mirror, no waves, just glistening water in the golden light. It's all so beautiful and surreal. I walk off the path toward the water, and in tall grass I step into little perfectly formed hole. Where did that come from? Funny, the words in my head at that exact moment, "I feel so good." The thought and the step are simultaneous. Stepping into hole, nearly falling, tweaking my knee slightly. 

I step forward, slightly shaken, but fine. That's a golden moment right there. Bathing in the beauty, stepping into a void. Feeling great, rising with the light, stepping into a slight, empty darkness. The double-nature of existence.

In the Affirmative...

Just want to say that there is nothing wrong with Beauty, Harmony, Good Cheer, and Good Vibrations. You know as Nick Lowe once asked: "What's So Funny About Peace, Love & Understanding?" Answer: Nothing Nick, I mean, instead pretty damn essential. That's the Gold that makes life worth living.

It is not wrong-headed to be on the lookout and to seek out the Good, the Bright & Beautiful. Of course, all of these wonders are floating all around us, at all times. Open your Heart, your Head, your Soul. Drink it all in. Good for you. Good for the World too, and everyone in it.

The Onion Idea!

What if the Universe was like an Onion?

You know, there are layers, upon layers; fragrant, pungent, useful as a garnish for sandwiches, stews, salads, etc. Flavorful. Delight-full on the tongue. Tantalizing your taste buds. But you know, it makes you cry too.

You want to get to the heart of it. What is this Onion/Universe made of? You peel, and peel and peel. Each layer falls away like a discarded wind-breaker. 

You want an answer, to get to a fundamental truth. Finally, you peel down to the last layer...  and then... nothing, just thin air...  ultimate meanings out of reach... 

There is an Onion, and then, there isn't. You are left with a zingy taste in your mouth, and a over-powering smell in your nose... that's it.

Stress Once Again...

A Three Act Play About Stress (see previous 2 posts)... 

Yes, so Life is stressful, no doubt. And often we can't flee or avoid stressful situations, relationships and events. In fact our lives are filled with those situations, relationships and events. They help define our lives.

So, you have to learn to recognize and navigate. You can embrace the stress and try to turn lemons into lemonade. You can try to overcome the stress, you can flee, and you can reformulate too.

Eliminate the things you hate, and cultivate the things you love. Simple formula. Maybe sounds simple-minded, but I do think it's the best way forward.

You will have to slog thru shit, you will have to deal with failure, death, destruction around every corner; you will want to "fight or flee" but, of course, sometimes you will just have to endure.

But you can stream-line your life. Hate your job? Get a new one. Yes, it is possible. Hate your co-workers? X them from your life.  Don't worry, there are plenty of folks you can be-friend. 

Someone once asked the film-maker Wes Craven why he always liked to work with the same crew on his movie sets, he explained: The Asshole Theory. Eliminate the Assholes. Life is too short.

And you know, stress is a killer.

Tsunami of our Lives...

After yesterday's post (see previous post), I got stuck thinking about the subject of "STRESS." You know, stress, long-term and short-term, may lead to all kinds of maladies and diseases, but at the same time isn't stress basically just an element we live in, and with, an element sort of like the "air we breathe?" 

Think of our first moments on the planet, freshly out of the womb, that birthing thing is quite the stressor, for mother and baby. And then, well, it's a wild ride from then on.

I had to check in with National Institute of Mental Health: What is Stress?

"Stress is how the brain and body respond to any demand. Any type of challenge—such as performance at work or school, a significant life change, or a traumatic event—can be stressful.Stress can affect your health. It is important to pay attention to how you deal with minor and major stressors, so you know when to seek help."

Right. So our job, if we have one, is not necessarily to avoid stress, but how to manage it!

It's easy to be a happy Swami on the Mountaintop, contemplating your navel, but how about finding the calm center in the middle of the Tsunami of our Lives?

I realize most of my life, I have gravitated towards "stress-reducing" activities. But sometimes you first have to do the stressful thing, for instance, get up on-stage in front of a crowd of strangers, or even friends and speak, or recite a monologue, or sing a song you wrote all by yourself. That is fucking stressful, Dear Pilgrim. BUT, if you do it, if you challenge yourself, you do a hard thing, and you get thru it, oh man, it can be pure pleasure, fun, inspiring, rewarding.

The stress vanishes into thin air. Suddenly that very stressful activity pays off in silver dollars of love and inspiration. 

I have found I have a few favorite stress-reducers: a walk on the lakefront, a bicycle ride, playing my guitar, listening to, and playing  music with other folks, meditation, drum circle, a good meal, a great conversation, a good movie or book, going to an art show,  chores like washing dishes or the kitchen floor, kicking down the cobblestones. Filling my life up with life-affirming shit. That's the good life.

Better Living with Vibrations...

I was talking to a friend, and she mentioned that her daughter left the medical establishment and is now pursuing the "healing arts," including: "Sound Therapy." You may ask, what is "sound therapy," well, I looked it up this a.m --- "Sound Therapy uses sound, music and specialist instruments played in therapeutic ways, combined with deep self-reflection techniques to improve health and wellbeing."

"The therapeutic sound and sound therapy techniques are delivered using tonal and rhythmic instruments and voice. The tonal instruments used are Himalayan and crystal singing bowls, gongs and tuning forks. The vocal techniques are toning (the singing of one tone – usually using a vowel sound), overtoning (a technique where more than one tone is sung simultaneously) or mantra (the chanting of Sanskrit words). A practitioner of Holistic Voice Therapy or Group Voice Therapy may also use ‘Vocal Processing Techniques’ which combine movement, breath and visualisation as well as voice. A therapeutic rhythm treatment/session is given using frame drum and therapeutic percussion comprises rainsticks, shakers, chimes and other percussion tools delivered in a specific order to maximize the therapeutic process."

"Information gathered over the last 20 years has informed us that certain instruments seem to effect a person in different ways."

And then there's this... "It is now widely accepted that most illness is stress related." Hard to prove, hard to disprove. I do think I have spent much of my life trying to "de-stress," meditating, running, walking, talking, listening to and playing music.

No doubt getting in a room with other musicians and playing music has "healed" me. So yeah, gongs, crystals, tuning forks, chanting, singing, drumming (try a drum circle sometime if you want to let it all go), can all be heavy medicine. I believe that music and r&r can "save your life." Play guitar like Keith Richards, just don't try to live like the man.

I'd also recommend listening to pretty much any kind music, Jazz, Classical, World Music, (although I think listening to extreme Death Metal and extremely loud, raucous Punk Rock actually tries to increase the stress, but maybe it's just a alternative, alternative medicine?)

Pick your poison wisely.  From experience I can testify that listening to The Beatles, The Grateful Dead, Led Zeppelin, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, The Rolling Stones can be pure pleasure. Listen to a Jerry Garcia or a Neil Young guitar improvisation and tell me that isn't a goddam miracle cure! Or check out "The Rain Song" on Houses of the Holy and tell me that isn't better than Penicillin. 

So yeah, I have been experimenting with Sound Therapy for most of my life. We happen to have a large Tibetan Singing Bowl in our living room, (a gift from a friend), and we do ring that thing just about every morning. Better Living with Vibrations!

A Squiggly Trail...

Thinking about Life. 

I have spent much of my life, ruminating over meanings, purpose, intent, hopes, dreams, adventures. Life has been a lifetime curriculum. It is a gnarly, complex topic that is frequently swimming and morphing around in my consciousness. 

I believe you can't "solve" Life, you can only experience it, and try to live it as best you can. I think it helps to live with clear-eyes and a clear head. Not always easy. I don't believe in those old dusty, musty books folks cling to and thump. Maybe there is wisdom to be found in some of those old the stories, parables, etc. But there is also wisdom to be found pretty much everywhere you look. Contemplate a leaf, a garden, a friend's face, your own hand, a bird's wing, etc.

My thinking about Life has grown, morphed, circled back, turned on itself. It's sort of like a wriggly snake, or worm, tossing itself this way and that, leaving a squiggly trail. I am "certain of nothing," except, I am alive now, doing the best I can with what I have at hand.

I live with Mystery. The Mystery of of it all. I am okay with that. I can't solve Life. Really. And I don't think it's my job either. I am here to experience, whatever I experience. Meanings, purpose, intent, hopes, dreams, adventures, much of that is all up to me, mixed with randomness, genetics, history, arbitrariness, luck & pluck. I just hope to live my days without getting totally crushed,  & smashed to bits. But everything is on the table. Life is a massive feast. You don't always get to choose.

The Warm Glow of Love...

Feeling pretty magnificent this morning. We had a a rousing good r&r show yesterday afternoon, at a cool artisanal brewery. Satisfying. It was the first indoor show we've had since a month or two before the Pandemic lockdown in 2020. Every table and chair was filled. A full-house on Halloween, which seemed like a heavy lift. Turns out we do have fans who will follow us around on our little mini-tour. Some came in costumes, everyone came to enjoy the music, and community of artistic souls. We all wore masks indoors, but you know, all seemed pretty safe. They weren't checking vaccine cards, but it was pretty obvious, this crowd was cool, responsible, and there to enjoy music and good cheer. I broke a couple guitar strings, as I am prone to do, (I like to play old strings, they are less bright, but there is the "law of diminishing returns" when the old strings start to snap), but I had a backup guitar at the ready, so the set flowed out smoothly anyway. This morning still in that warm glow of love. Yes, doing what you love to do. I recommend it.