"Who Knows?"

My partner and I were eating a late Sunday lunch. It was after a long, lazy, luxurious morning, and then a bike ride on the path and a quiet meditation on the lakefront at our sun-spot.

We were back home, in the kitchen, listening to National Public Radio. An Astrophysist was speaking about the James Webb Space Telescope and it's mission:

Seeking Light from the First Galaxies in the Universe 

"Webb will directly observe a part of space and time never seen before. Webb will gaze into the epoch when the very first stars and galaxies formed, over 13.5 billion years ago. Ultraviolet and visible light emitted by the very first luminous objects has been stretched or “redshifted” by the universe’s continual expansion and arrives today as infrared light. Webb is designed to “see” this infrared light with unprecedented resolution and sensitivity."

We were kind of stunned into silence. James Webb is flying into the Past? What?! Everything Webb sees is the Past. There was talk of distant, baby galaxies, and Black Holes, invisble, massive and mysterious.  And, well, fuck: Time. Lots of Time in Space. The farther Webb travels the deeper it goes into  an earlier Universe. Bizzare. We were scracthing our heads. Trying to get our heads around these very weird, other-worldly facts. So strange. Hard to digest. Extraordinary and extra-human. 

Wonder. Stunned into Wonder. We were also inspired. Listening to the Astrophysist was so captivating, she was so excited about explaining this amazing mission. Very, super-impressive. 

After that late lunch my partner went outside to work on her garden, and I put on a pair of closed-back headphones and sunk into music from the Rolling Stones. How to process the Universe? Who knows? We turned to Flowers & Music. 

Later in the evening, just before we retired to bed, my partner turned to me with tears in her eyes. She floated this heartfelt question to me: "How come we can't do better?"  I knew the "we" she was asking about was Humanity. All of Humanity. 

The Universe is so grand, so strange, so mysterious, so other-worldly-magnificent. How it is possible that we Human Beings are so smart, so enterprising & clever, we can actually build and launch a telescope into Universe to explore and report back images to us on Earth? Pretty damn clever.

And, what the fuck is wrong with Human Beings? Why are we such a tragic shit-show (you know war, death, evil intent, willful stupidty, cruelty, bad blood, bad action, greed, & selfishness)?

How to answer?  I mean, it's a gnarly, knotty question that begs for an answer. But we both knew, there really wasn't one. A big, fat dark cloud hung over us. "Why?"  I fumbled around a bit in my head. I flashed on Cheech & Chong,; comical, stoned-navel-gazing. Finally, my paltry, inadequate, poorly-constructed and verbalized response: "I mean... you know... like... well... fuck... um... who knows?"

The Outer and Inner...

I think we are "dream-making-machines." We navigate in the real world, and we conjure up scenarios in our heads. Sometimes the outer-world and the inner-world match up. That's when you feel like everything is breaking your way. Other times, the outer and inner worlds are at cross-purposes. Then it feels like you are out-of-sync, out of luck, and all your dreams are tiny puffs of smoke with no hold, purchase or substance. Sometimes that "dream-making machine," is hacked or hi-jacked, and instead of "dreams" it is all a long film-roll of "nightmare." What's a Humble Pilgrim to do? Get out of your head, and be present in the real world of what is. "What is," is a great teacher. And a hard-grader. Oh well. Those dreams are a nice diversion, entertaining, but getting on with it in the what is, I mean, that's really the game. Sure. dream, baby dream, but then, put your boots on and get out there...

Broken Toys...

"You are not from around here, are you?"

My partner and I have heard that often over the years. Funny. We do feel different from the herd. We both feel like we don't really belong anywhere. Even if we are from around here. We stick out like "sore thumbs." Somehow we carry that on our shoulders. Not sure exactly how that translates to other folks. Maybe we take cues from each other?

You know the Don't Fit In Vibe.

I think for most of our lives we were unaware, we were in denial. We tried to fit in. Pretty unsuccessfully. It never really worked. The last decade or so, I think we just threw in the towel. Sure, we are broken toys, not at home anywhere. Even our own bodies seem sort of foreign to us. 

Being different. It's a vulnerability. Maybe a bit dangerous? Some folks just don't like it. On the other hand, sometimes we are noticed, tolerated, and embraced too by other broken toys. And that's a sort of homecoming.

It's OK. We are so damn visible. Just have to go with it. "In it, not of it." That's how we roll. You know, that seems to be "our jam." Strange, exotic, awkward, birds. Odd birds of a feather. Even when we think we are fitting in, we really aren't. Which is kind of funny. Let go. Be ourselves to the max. Damn the torpedoes. That's the ticket.

Attracted to the Underdogs...

You might think it's Goliath vs. David, (see previous post). And I suppose it is...

Existenstial Dread: Death, Destruction, Bad Actors, Bad Actions, Chaos, Clusterfucks, Murder, Failure, Futility, Stupidity, a deep, in the bone, sense of Helplessness surrounding all the big subjects in our Lives.

Vs.

Optimisim, Hope, Happiness: Coffee, Light in all it's various forms, Humor, a weird sense of being connected to everything in the Universe, Intelligence, Music, Poetry, Laughter, Love, Dreams. Oh yeah, throw in a guitar, a voice, good meals, oatmeal (!), a decent night's sleep. The small consolations alive in our ever-expanding (?) Universe of Hurly-Burly.

OK. Maybe it's a long-shot, but I am solidly in the David Camp. I have always been attacted to the Underdogs. A good coffee brew, a glimmer of light, a little wisp of a dream. That's enough to make it.

Keep the Dread At Bay...

"Better Living Thru Chemistry." Yes. If one photo sums up my Life, it is the one above. Existential Dread is the "Darkness on the Edge of Town," of my world. How to "escape," that Darkness? How to head in the total opposite direction? One cup of coffee at a time. It is in the early morning hours, laying helpless in bed, when my dread reaches it's epic proportions. The only solution, get up, fire up the coffee maker, and luxuirate in a bachannal of hot, rich cups of well-brewed bean. Yes. Chemistry. It's a crutch, an addiction. No doubt. But it's true, the coffee works wonders. A magical concoction. Every cell in my body wakes up, Life surges thru me, Energy is stoked, yes, Energy is Eternal Delight. One must pick their poisons with intelligence.  This morning it is a hearty, deep & rich, sort of velvety French Roast. Yes. Heavy Medicine. I am surely, and happily addicted to the healing, energizing, powers of a handful of shiny little coffee beans. I enthusiasitically indulge every damn morning. Zaps the Dread, vaporizes it into tiny, inconsequential wisps of nothingness. Helps me keep the Dread firmly at bay, at least until the early hours of next morning. I truly am like an emotional & intellectual ping-pong ball. Still, I find Better Living thru life-affirming and enriching Chemistry.

Always Go to the Light...

The Universe works in mysterious ways. That's a fair statement. I mean, something is going on. Not sure what. 

My long-time partner and I were out and about yesterday, doing some errands. At one point, she turned to me and quoted an old football coach. Which I found quite funny on many levels which, I guess, I won't go into now. 

It was a Vince Lombardi line: "Run to daylight."

Now, of course, she was just repeating a line that I have used over the years. Hearing those words made me burst into laughter. Hah. It was a nice joke, an insight, a pearl of wisdom, and a clearing. 

Sure, yes, of course, always go to the light... daylight or otherwise...

A Humbled Doom-Slayer...

Edging out from the Doom-Fest. 

Yes. I am known to be a very, super-optimistic sort. Maybe fiercely optimistic, but you know, sometimes that pose is revealed to be silly & naive, even to me. 

Inadequate to the tragedies that surround us. What tragedies? 

You know, Climate Catastrophe, human irrationality & stupidity, and of course, Death. Common, near & far, every day Death. Those are subjects with no good come-backs. Difficult to rationalize, minimize, or work around. 

So yeah, hard, dead-stop limits. 

Even a defiant, contrarian, always sunny optimism bumps up against an immovable black wall of doom & gloom. If I am the Doom-Slayer, and I think I am, it comes naturally, my default mode, the last optimistic human in a sea of doom; I'd say my shield is bent and falling to pieces, and my sword is dull and tarnished, it just doesn't cut like it used to.

Yeah. What's a humbled Doom-Slayer to do? Put down the shield and sword, pull in one's horns. Make a necessary retreat. Spend some time renewing, refreshing, recharging. Still optimistic to a fault, but that optimism is closely held, burning inside. Let the gloom & doom wash over everything. Let it come down. Wait to reveal a blazing, sunny optimism another day. Like they say, "hope dies last." I mean, I hope so.

Silence...

Silence. 

The unsaid word. 

The buried thought. 

The discarded argument. 

The abandoned opinion. 

The refusal to engage.

Silence. 

Glitters like gold.

Ego-Death = A Clearing...

I was reminded of that concept: Ego Death. I read about it, and a couple nights later I experienced it. It came after a series of unfortunate events: a super-busy flurry of activity, total exhaustion, poor sleep, a few rejections, a sudden, shocking death of one of our collaborators. It all sort of sent me reeling and one early evening, I fell into a very vulnerable, fragile state.

And then, "trying to sleep," I went thru a rosary of moritfications & humiliations. Funny. I was stuck in my head running a film-strip of a continuous loop of life-events that put me, my being, my personality, in the worst light. It was like a ritual shaming. Every last thing that played in my head made me feel worse. I relived a long series of failures over my lifetime. It was a shattering of my Ego. Stuck in a hall of mirrors of fucked-up-ness.

It was humbling. I crashed in the darkness. Funny. I could not conjure up any of the "good times," or successses in my life. It was just a long slog of phoniness, failure and futility. I finally turned from this hell of consciousness and fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up, I was totally, completely, truly, madly, deeply, empty & clear.

I felt like a ceramic mug that had shattered into a million pieces on the floor. I had to slowly put the pieces back together. There were jagged edges and cracks eveywhere. I have slowly day by day come back to life, one breath, one step at a time. I have been a bit quieter, a bit more gentle and tentative with myself and others. I threw myself into the things of the day: playing music, writing songs, collaborating with our band. The key move was to step out of my deep self-consciousness, into a consciousness of the Universe of things.

Sure, it was a bit of an Ego Death. I now think of it as a necessary cleanse. The images and scenes that destroyed me, no longer seem to have their power or zing. The dust clears: I am here. Still ticking. Ha. That's life. Maybe a deflated, more shrunken Ego means more room for the rest of the Universe to find a place in my being? Yeah, sure, let's go with that idea.

Affix Firmly...

"You only tell the truth when you are wearing a mask." - Bob Dylan

Maybe the mask is the lie that reveals the truth?

What happens when the mask slips? Or you put on the wrong mask to meet the wrong moment? A fracture in the reality-picture? Thinking... "not as smart as you think you are..."

Helpless in the face of circumstances. Flailing. Falling. Crashing. In the morning light, the picture starts to reassemble itself. A new mask is within reach. Just reach your arms out and embrace. Affix firmly for best results...

Karma = Salacious Joyride!

Editorial cartoons. One of our greatest art-forms. A well rendered scene can really pack a quality punch. A great editorial cartoon can say everything that can be said in an instant flash of brilliance.  Spot-on the point. It is sort of wondrous. I love this one-panel example from one our greatest editorial cartoonists Mike Lucovich.

"Karma!"

It makes me smile, and laugh out-loud, because I too have been on the theme of the "karma-train." Fat-Boy Slime sits in a Manhatten courtroom, and he has to face a barrage of folks who are recounting the sordid deeds of his life. 

Sure it's an ugly circus, a bit of a shit-show, a salacious (what a great word) joyride, icky and a bit vomit-inducing, but that man is just facing the music of a life of fraud and lies. It's a reckoning. A trial of accountability. It's Karma-time, baby! 

Daily Mantra...

"Chill the fuck out."

My partner and I are sensitive, excitable folks. We are just wired that way. It is always a struggle just to keep on an even keel. Not actually sure it's possible. We have our days of blue skies and golden sunshine, and then we have those days of turmoil & hurly-burly. One step forward, two steps back. It's always a herky-jerky dance thru our days.

Everything counts, everything is connected. Living in this Universe is a PTSD-evoking kind of thing. We wear the trauma and drama in our bodies. There are the great & grand Universal fuck-ups and tragedies, and there are the personal, closer to home ones too. It's all so turbulent. 

Chaos.  It's built into the fabric of our lives. "Chill the fuck out." It's our latest, go-to mantra.

The Aquarium of Narcissim...

 I don't think it is a stretch to think that it is Narcissim that rules the present day across the Human Realm:

  "a self–centered personality style characterized as having an excessive preoccupation with oneself and one's own needs, often at the expense of others."

Well. Yeah. That is the aquarium we all swim in, preoccupied with oneself, at the expense of others.

We live as if we are all celebrities. We build altars to our own Egos. Ha. It's all kind of silly, self-absorbed, and pretty off-putting too. Having a "smart phone" in hand at all times, to capture the many angles of a self is a weird way to spend your days. Yep. It's a weird hall of mirrors. For sure.

It's tricky. I am one who writes about my own experience day to day. I am self-aware. And in some ways that seems important. Again we are left with navigating a dichotomy: self-aware/self-less.  There is a wide spectrum of human activity.

We can choose not to play the narcissim card. Really. I think so. Sure, being self-aware is a bit of a sticky wicket. But I find that the best of times are those where I "lose my self." Give one's self, one's ego to meet a moment, an activity, or another person. Seeking those flow activities where you become one with something other.

Being present, dropping the ego, tricking your self, to lose your self, to subsume into a higher-consciousness. Yes. I think it's possible. And desirable. A step out of the hall of mirrors, into a vast Universe of other things. A step towards better, more rewarding, mode of living.

A Glorious Idleness...

Yesterday my partner and I experimented with "being present." Mundane Monday turned into a festival of hanging out. We are dedicated pros when it comes to chasing a positive vibe afternoon. In some ways it was a perfect day. Cool breeze off the lake, brilliant sunshine, not too cold, not too hot, gorgeous blue sky, everything alive and blooming. We truly live in a beautiful neighborhood. It is stunning and extraordinary. The grasses, the trees, the flowers, the little critters, every being alive, and at full attention, fully-engaged with their living schtick. We downshifted into a passive, genial, moment to moment bliss. We rode our bikes and gravitated to our favorite sun-spot, a bit of a distance away from the hurly-burly, but within eye and ear shot of it too. We snacked on power-bars. We barely talked. Words kind of hung in the air around us. Time slowed to a crawl. We sat like amateur Buddhas, propped against a massive stone wall. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to be, nothing to do, except what we were doing. Being present. Truly, madly, deeply present. It was not boring, it was a glorious idleness. There was a beautiful lightness of being. We both felt it. The afternoon was about the not doing. There was no needing, wanting, grasping. It was all moment to moment presence. There was nothing and everything enwrapped in that gesture. We didn't want to leave. We let the afternoon flow. It was...

"Don't Go Down in the Basement..."

I am an open-minded, up for pretty much of anything type of person. I actually think of myself as someone who can contemplate any idea or concept. Except, I mean, up to a point. An unguarded, totally open mind can get one into trouble.

There are some avenues,  some roads, some destinations, some topics, some ideas, some fears, worries, doubts, that just aren't worth floating, delving into or exploring. Really. No sense in wallowing, or ruminating over toxic, pernicious, or deeply-detrimental subjects.

It is best to try to protect yourself from any Soul-killing phenomena. "A mind is a terrible thing to waste," especially on waste.

Like they say in the movies, if you are smart, and want to make it to the final-credits: "Don't go down in the basement."

Yes. Maybe easier said than done. Sometimes you just can't escape the black-holes that are lurking in the Universe. You can easily fall-in, get sucked into the vortex and be destroyed. Destruction is implicit in the fabric & design of Life.

It takes a bit of pluck & luck & discipline to avoid the deep-darknesses. Sometimes you really can't. I mean, for sure you can't. So you fall, you go down deep into the darkness, and you hope, beyond hope, that you will emerge again into the light.

It's not easy being Green. 

Still, I think that we Human Beings have a deep affinity for the light. We gravitate to it. Sometimes all it takes is a tiny glimmer, a little glint, or spark. It's enough, to get up and out from the dark places. You have to be vigilant, strong-willed, and tough. Be merciless in your ability to grab onto the light. Hang on as if your life depended on it. And at the same time, you must stay open, kind, and gentle, with yourself and others too. It's complicated, for sure.

Decay in the Room...

"We don't know where we come from. We don't know where we are." - Laurie Anderson

Life. It's long. It's short. 

There is an agreeable Decay in the Room...

"What Is..."

Bumping up against "what is." It can be awkward, it can be annoying, it can be eye-opening, it can be dream-crushing, it can be surprising, it can be amazing, it can be beautiful, it can be a teaching-moment, it can be a disillusioning, it can be an education or a re-education, it can alter your trajectory significantly.

You find out that you are not complete, instead you are in an improvisation with "what is." It's long-form improvisation. You can dodge & dance, you can flirt and flaunt, you can grasp and hold on, you can ride the tiger, you can surrender and let go.  No matter what, you have to contend with "What is..." That's life.

It is All Play...

Well... I have learned to play a game. It's part of my "creative" practice. I often "pretend," that everything is new. You know, "beginner's mind?" I act as if, whatever I am doing has never been done before by me or by anyone else either. Ha. I try to short-circuit my "conscious mind," and open to a larger energy field. Sounds silly, or mysterious, but I find it is a simple tool, an emptying of the head. It is often effective & quite liberating. 

First time to write a song. First time to float a dream. First time to put my fingers on a guitar's fretboard. First time to reach out to someone. First time to ask a question. 

There is a bit of a feigned naivete in my approach. Maybe a bit of playing dumb? A primitive's attitude. It's a way of opening a door, opening a mind to something new.

A new day, a new moment. Dropping the past, not thinking of the future. Not worrying about success or failure. Just the doing, in the moment, without worrying or judging. What happens? Happy accidents. Little, surprising discoveries. Gifts from the sky. Playing the Fool in the service of a  higher purpose. Unnamed. Unknowing. It is a working method & a process. A little lie of the mind.  I find it does "work." My best efforts seem to come effortlessly. It is all play.

What Is?

I'm reading Lord Byron's "Don Juan," (it's about pretty much everything), and I came across a "philisophical" passage where he talks about "the world," and "what is." It is in opposition to Berkeley's "idealism," which posits that everything is "in our heads."

As Byron tells it, to think that the world is all in our heads is just pure egotism. 

Put me in the camp with Byron. You know, maybe we are "spiritual beings," living in a "material world?" Hat-tip to George Harrison "Living in the Matrial World."  (1973). And our "job" (sentient beings, witnesses and watchers of the grand unspooling of the Universe), as Human Beings is to notice, to experience, to see, to feel, to take in, "what is." Every damn day. Yesterday, May 1, was Beltane:  the Gaelic May Day festival. We are all here to be fully alive, aware, awake.

What is?

I mean, what happened yesterday? Around here it was an explosion of warm temps, and brilliant color. It was an embracing, a caressing, kind of day. How it is possible that Nature takes front & center and the world flowers and blooms in one glorious instant? That isn't what happened, it has been a slow process, a gradual unfolding, you know, Spring in the Midwest of America, but yesterday if felt like everything was revealed in one instant. Maybe the recent rains and storms lit the fuse?

A beautiful, abundantly-lively & gorgeously-immersive day. Everyone was out and about. Everything was alive, even the rocks, the ground itself, seemed to be pulsing with life. Everything seemed at play. Sun. Blue Sky. Rippling Lake. Green Vegetation. Lively, Looming Trees. Flowers of Every Color & Shape. Everything Bubbling & Blooming. All you could do: see it, feel it, smell it, luxuriate in it. It was overpowering. Amazing. Yes. Beltane, baby. 

Magnificent: to be alive in the moment, to take it all in through our senses five. So wonderfully Human. So, so Beltane... and what is...

Messages...

I flick on the radio and the coffeemaker, and empty the dishwasher, plates, bowls, mugs, forks, spoons, knives all returned to their usual places.

Two random, unconnected, sentences float in the air, seperated by time and circumstance, and land in my head. I repeat  the words, sort of like a hypnotized, brain-dead zombie. 

I mean, I am waiting for that first sip of brain-reviving coffee brew. These are two totally unrelated, orphan sentences spoken via radio-waves, by different folks, about different topics. It is  only my own tricky little brain that puts the puzzle-pieces together for one inspired thought of great insight & wisdom:

"The is the real world."

AND... then...

"Be present."

Ha. Okay. All right. I get it. Message delivered and received. Roger that!