All Stirred Up

image

Please, forgive me if this post gets a bit fragmented. But, pieces, all over the place, that’s what I am right now. I often think how great it would be if we could defrag our minds as we do our computers. I think meditation can help in that… but, it isn’t fool proof. And, under the word human in the dictionary should be the simple definition: fool. But, I digress, and I simply beg you to stick with me. I have a question for you, but you’ll have to be patient and wade through my frag-mental stew.

I wax very philosophical at present. It started this morning with thinking about harmonics, vibration, and the nature of the universe. Deep stuff, yeah. How we’re instruments. Out of tune with ourselves, subsequently out of tune with the whole orchestra.

This analogy continued with thinking about the music we make and listen to. As society deteriorates, how the sound of that disturbance – that humongous discord – has been recreated by heavy, thrash and grunge metalists. I saw this music in a new light. There are those musicians/artists who hold on tightly to the sound of order and beauty in their music, because it is what they crave and desire; it is a wish for it to be as it should. Then, there are other artists who are “telling it like it is”, so to speak. That horrible (to my ears) harsh sound, is how the universe, how life, how we human fools sound!

I’ll take the analogy further. You can’t play anything worth listening to on a broken instrument. Musical instruments are fragile.

I could go on. But… I won’t. I’m tired and the burden of a broken soundboard is too great. I think I’ve made my point anyway.

Which direction do you stir your coffee, tea, hot chocolate, etc. in? Clockwise or counterclockwise? (This is the question.)

This morning I suddenly became aware that I always naturally stir counterclockwise.

Surely, there must be some psychology behind the direction in which we stir.

Interesting.

There are, most likely, studies about it. Certainly, some neuroscientist should be getting paid to find out why one stirs this way and another stirs that way.

So, what about you? Which way do you stir?

Advertisements

Music is Therapy. Always.

image

The school run rarely runs (no pun intended) smoothly. I struggled, per usual, but I got them there and got myself back to the safe confines of the four walls I live in (I’d have said “my house”, but it’s rented and our financial situation is never going to allow us to own a house…so).

Things with my health have been deteriorating. Go back to the doctor, I hear you say. I’m tired of that. I’ve tried to get better, and just get worse.

I’ve withdrawn. Even more. I avoid Facebook, with the exception of my artist’s page. It’s another outlet. I keep it for that reason; it certainly isn’t good for much else (like promoting my music, which was its original intention).

Facebook. Ugh. Society in general, ugh. But, Facebook? Let’s put all neuroses in a Petri dish, why don’t we? The never ending stream (feed…yeah, and I’m fed up) of depressing human existence. Updates about food and who’s watching what on the telly. And the endless competition for who has the best (and worst) of life’s experiences goes on. It’s fucking overwhelming.

Oh, but you will accuse me of being negative…all the while, the whisper you ignore in the back of your head agrees with me, knows I’m right.

It may surprise you to find out this post is not a rant about Facebook. Where was I?… oh, yeah, the school run was done and I was safe inside the four walls.

After a glass of chocolate milk (with added vitamins), I found myself in front of my piano (it IS mine…not rented, all mine). I couldn’t remember the last time I had played it. I felt I should do something about it. Music is therapy. Always.

I cleared the pile of stuff (clothes, kids’ toys, who knows what else) off the bench. I sat. There was a song I had written (scribbled) in front of me. I played and sang it. My voice is rusty. But, the piano welcomed me like the true friend it is. We touched each other…that’s what musicians and their instruments do. It’s a very intimate thing and surely sounds freaky and pervy to non-musos. Freaky and pervy I can be accused of (I digress), but the relationship between musician and instrument is sacred.

It’s like any other relationship. We let each other down. We please each other when we can. It’s very give and take…on both sides.

After the scribbled song, I played and sang an old favourite. Then, I let the piano play me for a while. Give. Take.

I feel just as wretched and ill as before I sat down, but I feel a little less frazzled; I feel comforted.

Music is therapy. Always.

What’s next? I don’t know. Take it a day at a time. Do what I can…let go what I can’t. And, perhaps, try to play daily, even if only a minute or two. Yeah…it’s a plan.

Wholeness That Swallows Up My Brokenness

“In Him I meet wholeness that swallows up my brokenness.” – Autumn Dawn Leader

I call out to God from my depths. The depths of despair. The depths of depression. The depths of depravity. The depths of myself. The depths of my humanity. And, in Him I find mercy, forgiveness, help, hope and healing; I find full redemption.

In Him I meet wholeness that swallows up my brokenness.

 

People are just so…

“People are just so… human.” – Autumn Dawn Leader

Infuriating?

Exasperating?

Seriously screwed up?

Fallen?

I remember that idiotic book that came out some decades ago entitled, “I’m Ok, You’re Ok.” I have always wanted to write one in retaliation titled, “I’m not OK, and neither are you!”

I know, it is a very Christian term to use the word “fallen” to describe humanity. But, look at the world, PEOPLE! I’d say that fallen describes people better than any other word. Fallen below what? Well, as a Christian, I believe fallen (FAR) short of the glory of God. But, whatever you believe (and, I am seriously not wanting to get into any theological debate of any sort – there are other places to do that…and, I repeat, that place is NOT my blog), humanity is a wreck, and the condition is most easily seen when more than one of us decides to engage with any other one of us. Because, as I have said before, no one has an untainted perspective. We carry our messed up selves into every interaction, whether casual or more intimate. What a recipe for potential disaster.

This sounds depressing, doesn’t it? Well, I would say, you are reading my blog, aren’t you? However, while there is great potential for disaster, there is also a decent amount of potential for great good.  And, while I am most definitely NOT what anyone would dare to call a “people-person”, there are one or five of you (give or take 2 or 4) who I am so very grateful for, and this pre-posthumous existence is made better because of your existence.

People are just so…

Loved.

We certainly aren’t very lovable. But, my my, when I think that Perfection clothed Himself with humanity for me. Wow! The death, the pain He suffered… unimaginable in it’s fullness and entirety, but – had it been me (who has no fear of death, who welcomes it as the end of the pre-posthumous existence), I’d have been thinking… “But, soon the suffering will be over!” The thing that gets me, that amazes me, is that He chose to be human – with all the weaknesses and frailities and potential for massive screwed-uppedness. He did that (and didn’t screw up) for me… to raise me above my humanity.

This post went a bit further than I had planned. I trust it went exactly where it was meant to go.

Perspective (Let’s Get Real)

735159_544990325511223_1411460882_n

 

Perspective is the thing, isn’t it? It affects how we interpret EVERYTHING we see and hear. And, I will venture to say that NO ONE actually, really and truly, hears what another person is saying. Not really. Almost always there will be something ‘lost in translation’. Everyone reads (sometimes VERY wrongly) between the lines – and all of that reading is done with a distinct bias toward one’s own experience. No wonder communication is so difficult. No wonder relationships are so hard. Misunderstandings abound because it isn’t a question of Mars and Venus, women and men nonsense (afterall, the majority of the time I get grossly misunderstood it is by other women). It’s an issue of NONE OF US SPEAK THE SAME LANGUAGE! No two of us on this sphere speaks the very same thing and, therefore, understanding what people MEAN (uncoloured by YOUR standpoint) is extremely hard.

I don’t have any clever advice for this. I just wish more people were aware of it, and that those people who are aware of it would admit it. We can all endeavour to listen better to others and attempt to not add our slant to it but, first, that requires admitting we ALL have a problem with this. And, even if we all did that, it would still be a major challenge not to infer how we feel about things when we are listening to someone else share their feelings/ideas/story. We are all simply incomprehensible (to one degree or another) to each other. I believe it is only by the grace of God (whether you believe in Him or not) that we are able to communicate with each other at all. Humans are so very good at being selfish and self-absorbed and just plain excellent at getting it terribly wrong wrong wrong!

We can desire greater understanding – and that’s a noble desire. But, I have seen the people who claim to be the most understanding get it really very wrong because they are completely incapable of seeing past the framework of their own experience. We will only ever get anywhere with understanding others – having better relationships, etc – as we admit the problem and work to choose to stand in another person’s shoes. And, when our limitations force us to admit that we cannot stand in that other person’s shoes, then we need to be big enough to shut up. Because, we cannot judge what we do not understand.

 

Well, first blog post of 2013. I doubt it will be that popular. Afterall… who else is going to (really) understand it but me? 😉