A discussion on Abortion prompted the following reflection, but first, I need to explain the title. This song, it's a pretty blatant declaration of my allegiance, in a spiritual and philosophical sense. And in this case, quite literally, I'm siding the with the King. But more than that, this song, it's release was the moment of my adolescence where things I'd identified with, Hip Hop, and God, intermingled in a way that was generally accepted as positive. Run-DMC, the group that broke down barriers between genres not long after it seemed there was no traversing them, was heralding a return to prominence after they'd "fallen-off" as an old school act that was irrelevant. They were pairing up with one of the first successful yet seemingly down to earth rappers, Pete Rock and C. L. Smooth. They had at hit in T.R.O.Y. but they weren't household names. C. L. Smooth was MC's MC, and Pete Rock was a go to producer at the time, but ultimately, they made music for Hip Hop heads and your parents and little kids weren't going to know who they were. Down With The King was an elevation for them, a validation of our generation's talent and relevance in the grand scheme of Hip Hop culture at that moment. The fact that Run DMC took the opportunity to invoke their inclusion of faith into the band identity was the sort of unprecedented coup no one could have seen coming, and they did it in the slickest way possible, by sampling themselves they used the titular phrase as a double entendre, referencing their role in the history of Hip Hop music and their religious affiliation, pretty much a taboo at that time. Ironically Down With The King reestablished them to their ascendant role in Hip Hop from years gone by. It was the first Jesus Walk (albeit Kanye, by way of Rhymefest's lyrics, was more direct in how it addressed the topic of faith whereas Run-DMC hit you self-referential lyrics). That brings a whole new meaning to Watch The Throne.
As for Abortion, and all matters of life and death, and humane, righteous, or wise judgement, I am going to go deep off into Metaphysical Spiritual La la Land, and I'm cool with it, because, the ends justify the means.
About 10 years back I had dream I was in a class taught by a professor in our Comm department at Truman who was also a provocateur of many a heated conversation about the salience of many religious claims to supernatural feats.
Well like all dreams about being in class, I wasn't prepared, hadn't done the reading. He asked us to turn to Kings 3:10 and that we'd learn how to be wise or something to that affect. The class went on sans the usual pop quiz you know you're going to fail and I woke up determined to find out what was in Kings 3:10
I wasn't raised in the church, we stopped going around the time I was in Kindergarten, and after that I only went of my own volition to random churches close to where I lived for the occasional Bible study to hang with kids I knew. I'd read some of the New Testament, but never made it much past the Gospels, and never made it out of Genesis in the Old Testament. The closest I came to reading Kings was listening to the band King's X. I'd never studied it, didn't know much about what the book of Kings covered, it's significance etc. Don't recall any lessons out of it.
So I went and looked up this lauded scripture that I'd just been introduced to in this vivid dream.
"10 The Lord was pleased that Solomon had asked for this."
Useless right? That's what I thought, then I decided to get context...
"1 Kings 3
New International Version (NIV)
3 Solomon made an alliance with Pharaoh king of Egypt and married his daughter. He brought her to the City of David until he finished building his palace and the temple of the Lord, and the wall around Jerusalem. 2 The people, however, were still sacrificing at the high places, because a temple had not yet been built for the Name of the Lord. 3 Solomon showed his love for the Lord by walking according to the instructions given him by his father David, except that he offered sacrifices and burned incense on the high places.
4 The king went to Gibeon to offer sacrifices, for that was the most important high place, and Solomon offered a thousand burnt offerings on that altar. 5 At Gibeon the Lord appeared to Solomon during the night in a dream, and God said, “Ask for whatever you want me to give you.”
6 Solomon answered, “You have shown great kindness to your servant, my father David, because he was faithful to you and righteous and upright in heart. You have continued this great kindness to him and have given him a son to sit on his throne this very day.
7 “Now, Lord my God, you have made your servant king in place of my father David. But I am only a little child and do not know how to carry out my duties. 8 Your servant is here among the people you have chosen, a great people, too numerous to count or number. 9 So give your servant a discerning heart to govern your people and to distinguish between right and wrong. For who is able to govern this great people of yours?”
10 The Lord was pleased that Solomon had asked for this. 11 So God said to him, “Since you have asked for this and not for long life or wealth for yourself, nor have asked for the death of your enemies but for discernment in administering justice, 12 I will do what you have asked. I will give you a wise and discerning heart, so that there will never have been anyone like you, nor will there ever be. 13 Moreover, I will give you what you have not asked for—both wealth and honor—so that in your lifetime you will have no equal among kings. 14 And if you walk in obedience to me and keep my decrees and commands as David your father did, I will give you a long life.” 15 Then Solomon awoke—and he realized it had been a dream.
He returned to Jerusalem, stood before the ark of the Lord’s covenant and sacrificed burnt offerings and fellowship offerings. Then he gave a feast for all his court.
A Wise Ruling
16 Now two prostitutes came to the king and stood before him. 17 One of them said, “Pardon me, my lord. This woman and I live in the same house, and I had a baby while she was there with me. 18 The third day after my child was born, this woman also had a baby. We were alone; there was no one in the house but the two of us.
19 “During the night this woman’s son died because she lay on him. 20 So she got up in the middle of the night and took my son from my side while I your servant was asleep. She put him by her breast and put her dead son by my breast. 21 The next morning, I got up to nurse my son—and he was dead! But when I looked at him closely in the morning light, I saw that it wasn’t the son I had borne.”
22 The other woman said, “No! The living one is my son; the dead one is yours.”
But the first one insisted, “No! The dead one is yours; the living one is mine.” And so they argued before the king.
23 The king said, “This one says, ‘My son is alive and your son is dead,’ while that one says, ‘No! Your son is dead and mine is alive.’”
24 Then the king said, “Bring me a sword.” So they brought a sword for the king. 25 He then gave an order: “Cut the living child in two and give half to one and half to the other.”
26 The woman whose son was alive was deeply moved out of love for her son and said to the king, “Please, my lord, give her the living baby! Don’t kill him!”
But the other said, “Neither I nor you shall have him. Cut him in two!”
27 Then the king gave his ruling: “Give the living baby to the first woman. Do not kill him; she is his mother.”
28 When all Israel heard the verdict the king had given, they held the king in awe, because they saw that he had wisdom from God to administer justice."
So, I was taken aback. My Professor and dream delivered on what was promised, Wisdom. In this case, it gave me a means to judge good and evil in even the most arbitrary situations by that story of the mothers and the child:
If someone has good will & love in their heart they will be willing to give up the thing they love most if it means that thing will live on.
If someone has ill will & spite in their heart they would rather see something destroyed than see someone else possess it to be vindicated.
For me those two extremes became the typification of Love and Hate, Good and Evil, Conservation and Wastefulness, as far as human interactions.
It once and for all helped me clarify my attitude on Abortion to a decidedly pro-life stance, and it also served as an indictment of so many of the partisan politicians at each other's throats.
That story, that one facet of wisdom, even Solomon's whole-hearted pursuit of wisdom, to me, was a benchmark of being Humane, empathetic and loving. It made it easier to judge this world.
It informs my attitude of everything, from Nuclear armaments to the environment, from abortion to the spread of communicable disease.
It's like the Hippocratic Oath, "First, Do no harm."
You can explain away the genesis of my dream, but what I garnered from it has served to make me a better moral human being, and hopefully allowed me to share that with others in a positive way.
Basically TBR (Toilet Bowl Reading).
Through 2014 each post was named for a song, which is linked in its title. click to listen (preferably launch in a new tab or window though)
2015 onward: I have no clue what will inspire my rambling, as if I needed anything in the first place? The reigns are off, and the rambling truly begins.
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
There was a guy I used to know, that planted a seed he couldn't grow.
It's been 15 years since I came across a listing in the distributor's new release newsletter for Chocolate Genius's Black Music on V2 records. It was the first i'd heard of V2 or Marc Anthony Thompson. I was sold on the album by the mention of Melvin Gibbs, John Medeski, Chris Wood, and Abe Laboriel Sr. who'd all gotten credits on other records I'd been listening to.
When I sat down with the album, upon hearing this song (Life is the actual title of the track linked in the title above) as the opening track, I was a happy man. Around that time I was off on a big kick, transitioning my tastes from Hip Hop and Alternative to Singers and Songwriters. Chocolate Genius was one of the first unknown or obscure artists I championed. The raw emotional content of his songs were so real, it passed indie muster, but the quality of the music was so rich, courtesy of Craig Street, who I'd eventually learn to trust as an arbiter of all things tasteful.
At that time, the only other record I would promote as vocally as Black Music was Grace. I'm nowhere near as vocal about either at this point, but their influence informed my taste, and my songwriting at its core. I would not have been as keen to take an interest in Andrew Bird, Chris Whitley, Joe Henry, and other artists (used in the most literal sense of the term) sans exposure to Chocolate Genius. Many of my friends were into Tom Waits at that time, which seemed the best litmus test for liking Chocolate Genius, but I was not keen on balladeers, so I only dug 50% of Waits material. Chocolate Genius tapped into a soulful tradition, closer to the Isley Brothers or Bobby Womack when he slowed things down, making his melancholy and longing more palatable for my tastes. Thanks to this, I developed and affinity for artists who have carved out paths as songwriters that serve the craft of writing more so than their book keeping.
This song still strikes a chord, more so now that I'm closer to, if not older than Marc Anthony Thompson when it was released. You are what you eat. All things considered, I thought of this as a rewrite of People Are Strange, given it's jazzy melody, but it stands on its own apart from that gem of a track by the Doors. It's aged well. Fifteen years ago it marked a pivotal moment in my time in College, in Kirksville in particular. That summer would set me on the path that shaped the next 10 years of my life. Now, Five years on from the end of that personal journey, I'm going through an interesting transition on my professional journey. It's high time I worked on my gardening skills.
When I sat down with the album, upon hearing this song (Life is the actual title of the track linked in the title above) as the opening track, I was a happy man. Around that time I was off on a big kick, transitioning my tastes from Hip Hop and Alternative to Singers and Songwriters. Chocolate Genius was one of the first unknown or obscure artists I championed. The raw emotional content of his songs were so real, it passed indie muster, but the quality of the music was so rich, courtesy of Craig Street, who I'd eventually learn to trust as an arbiter of all things tasteful.
At that time, the only other record I would promote as vocally as Black Music was Grace. I'm nowhere near as vocal about either at this point, but their influence informed my taste, and my songwriting at its core. I would not have been as keen to take an interest in Andrew Bird, Chris Whitley, Joe Henry, and other artists (used in the most literal sense of the term) sans exposure to Chocolate Genius. Many of my friends were into Tom Waits at that time, which seemed the best litmus test for liking Chocolate Genius, but I was not keen on balladeers, so I only dug 50% of Waits material. Chocolate Genius tapped into a soulful tradition, closer to the Isley Brothers or Bobby Womack when he slowed things down, making his melancholy and longing more palatable for my tastes. Thanks to this, I developed and affinity for artists who have carved out paths as songwriters that serve the craft of writing more so than their book keeping.
This song still strikes a chord, more so now that I'm closer to, if not older than Marc Anthony Thompson when it was released. You are what you eat. All things considered, I thought of this as a rewrite of People Are Strange, given it's jazzy melody, but it stands on its own apart from that gem of a track by the Doors. It's aged well. Fifteen years ago it marked a pivotal moment in my time in College, in Kirksville in particular. That summer would set me on the path that shaped the next 10 years of my life. Now, Five years on from the end of that personal journey, I'm going through an interesting transition on my professional journey. It's high time I worked on my gardening skills.
Friday, July 5, 2013
Straight From The Sewer
I still love that song, and Ironically...
I've been getting closer and closer to recording some straight up funky, hip hop influenced instrumentals as of late, and it's coinciding with a series of unfortunate aromas emanating from my basement in staggered succession. First was the Deflated Maus, pun intended. I never figured out where the poor critter had stowed itself away, but there it remained until he was effectively dehydrated. Credit to Double JJ of KC who hipped me to just letting nature run its course and masking it with deodorizers. That method worked. Now I'm confronted with recurrence of the backup that occurred in August 2010. Maybe a Roots song should be the link instead of Das EFX, cause the roots in my lateral are no doubt the source of my problem. My main drain has had its flow reduced to a gallon or two of water etc. before backing up. NOT GOOD. I caught it happening before it was excessive and got past the unfinished laundry room area. But still, to have to deal with this again, ugh. Headache. And WALLET ACHE. Anyways. Congrats, Sticky Gumball Tree, You got me.
I've been getting closer and closer to recording some straight up funky, hip hop influenced instrumentals as of late, and it's coinciding with a series of unfortunate aromas emanating from my basement in staggered succession. First was the Deflated Maus, pun intended. I never figured out where the poor critter had stowed itself away, but there it remained until he was effectively dehydrated. Credit to Double JJ of KC who hipped me to just letting nature run its course and masking it with deodorizers. That method worked. Now I'm confronted with recurrence of the backup that occurred in August 2010. Maybe a Roots song should be the link instead of Das EFX, cause the roots in my lateral are no doubt the source of my problem. My main drain has had its flow reduced to a gallon or two of water etc. before backing up. NOT GOOD. I caught it happening before it was excessive and got past the unfinished laundry room area. But still, to have to deal with this again, ugh. Headache. And WALLET ACHE. Anyways. Congrats, Sticky Gumball Tree, You got me.
Saturday, June 15, 2013
KC Jones (Please don't try and correct me, I know what I'm doing here)
So this week traveling has been cursed for me.
Prologue: My calf started to hurt a little, felt like an issue with tendons, but I wasn't sure, hoped it would go away.
1. Car breaks down.
2. Fixed up my bike, but when breaking it down to be moved with the car when I got it towed home, it gets further jacked up, and time is lost readjusting the brakes and wheel alignment.
3. Repair car after a couple of attempts but sprain my Achilles at work the following morning right off the bat and have to file a workman's comp claim.
4. I plan a trip Kansas City to see Ben Kenney and visit friends, initially planning on driving before my car problems. Not trusting my car, and looking to keep costs down in case I have to get some major work done on it (my plates are up this month and I need to get it inspected) I choose public transportation. Greyhound and Megabus jack their prices sky high, so I book Amtrak roundtrip to KC, relying on Lisa to come rock out with me and drive us from KC to Lawrence and back cause that's where the show is.
5. I plan to leave my car and catch the Metro Bus, to the Metro Train which puts you right off at Amtrak, but I realize this morning at 5am I don't have enough ones and the bus takes exact amounts only. I go to walgreens and double back home, realizing I am not going to be able to walk to the bus stop in time.
6. I figure I will try leaving my car at Airport parking and catch the train from there, but I didn't know if they allow that with security, so in a pinch I called my Uncle Colin who picks me up after getting a little turned around, and as we pull into the north hanley metro link station the train is pulling off. I figure I will just drive to amtrak ASAP and leave my car there.
7. On the ride home I look at my ticket and realize departure is at 9:15 and I thought it was at 9am the next metro train would have gave me 15 minutes to get on the Amtrak, so I might have made it. Too late now.
8. I get home, get in my car and hit the highway only to find 170 south shifted from 4 lanes to 1 lane at St. Charles Rock Road. I exit and make a U-turn when I see the jam is only at the overpass and get back on the highway on the other side of the ramp and dodge that bullet after losing a few minutes.
9. I get on 64/40 East and the exit to the Amtrak Station is closed so I have to get off on Grand. I get a little turned around so I turn on the GPS, and it gives me ok directions to get back on 64E but it tells me to make a left on 14th while on the highway, instead of taking the exit and then making a left, so I get confused and end up taking the last Missouri ext, then Choteau to Tucker, Tucker to Clark??? I forget, but I get close to the Amtrak station but the roads are blocked because The Race For the Cure is today. I have to wait on that.
10. I get there and look for the long term parking but only see short term and some kind of kiosk. I say screw it, lock and alarm my car and go into the station. I ask an older man if they called for the KC train and he says he didn't hear it. I go to the ticketing counter and the station agent says it's getting ready to pull off now. I walk, then run to the hall that leads to the escalators that lead to the catwalk, that leads to the trains about 100 years away, but is actually 400 yard away because of that erector set style path they make you go through. Before I can get through the partition they have for the lines, I see the train starting to pull forward. I missed it too.
11. My ankle started throbbing, my knee was feeling weird.
Epilogue: The ride home was entirely unencumbered, a couple of red lights, but absolutely not traffic. Maybe it's better that I be in town to spend Father's day with my dad, and visit with the family of the closest I had to a brother coming up as a child. Ben Kenney just needs to bring his bad self to St. Louis on tour dagnabit!
PS
Casey Jones is the only Dead song I every really took to right off the bat, and still think it's their best. The fact that it's based on something that happened just across the river from here plays into the whole pathetic affair that was me getting around this week like a stroke of cosmic karmic genius.
Prologue: My calf started to hurt a little, felt like an issue with tendons, but I wasn't sure, hoped it would go away.
1. Car breaks down.
2. Fixed up my bike, but when breaking it down to be moved with the car when I got it towed home, it gets further jacked up, and time is lost readjusting the brakes and wheel alignment.
3. Repair car after a couple of attempts but sprain my Achilles at work the following morning right off the bat and have to file a workman's comp claim.
4. I plan a trip Kansas City to see Ben Kenney and visit friends, initially planning on driving before my car problems. Not trusting my car, and looking to keep costs down in case I have to get some major work done on it (my plates are up this month and I need to get it inspected) I choose public transportation. Greyhound and Megabus jack their prices sky high, so I book Amtrak roundtrip to KC, relying on Lisa to come rock out with me and drive us from KC to Lawrence and back cause that's where the show is.
5. I plan to leave my car and catch the Metro Bus, to the Metro Train which puts you right off at Amtrak, but I realize this morning at 5am I don't have enough ones and the bus takes exact amounts only. I go to walgreens and double back home, realizing I am not going to be able to walk to the bus stop in time.
6. I figure I will try leaving my car at Airport parking and catch the train from there, but I didn't know if they allow that with security, so in a pinch I called my Uncle Colin who picks me up after getting a little turned around, and as we pull into the north hanley metro link station the train is pulling off. I figure I will just drive to amtrak ASAP and leave my car there.
7. On the ride home I look at my ticket and realize departure is at 9:15 and I thought it was at 9am the next metro train would have gave me 15 minutes to get on the Amtrak, so I might have made it. Too late now.
8. I get home, get in my car and hit the highway only to find 170 south shifted from 4 lanes to 1 lane at St. Charles Rock Road. I exit and make a U-turn when I see the jam is only at the overpass and get back on the highway on the other side of the ramp and dodge that bullet after losing a few minutes.
9. I get on 64/40 East and the exit to the Amtrak Station is closed so I have to get off on Grand. I get a little turned around so I turn on the GPS, and it gives me ok directions to get back on 64E but it tells me to make a left on 14th while on the highway, instead of taking the exit and then making a left, so I get confused and end up taking the last Missouri ext, then Choteau to Tucker, Tucker to Clark??? I forget, but I get close to the Amtrak station but the roads are blocked because The Race For the Cure is today. I have to wait on that.
10. I get there and look for the long term parking but only see short term and some kind of kiosk. I say screw it, lock and alarm my car and go into the station. I ask an older man if they called for the KC train and he says he didn't hear it. I go to the ticketing counter and the station agent says it's getting ready to pull off now. I walk, then run to the hall that leads to the escalators that lead to the catwalk, that leads to the trains about 100 years away, but is actually 400 yard away because of that erector set style path they make you go through. Before I can get through the partition they have for the lines, I see the train starting to pull forward. I missed it too.
11. My ankle started throbbing, my knee was feeling weird.
Epilogue: The ride home was entirely unencumbered, a couple of red lights, but absolutely not traffic. Maybe it's better that I be in town to spend Father's day with my dad, and visit with the family of the closest I had to a brother coming up as a child. Ben Kenney just needs to bring his bad self to St. Louis on tour dagnabit!
PS
Casey Jones is the only Dead song I every really took to right off the bat, and still think it's their best. The fact that it's based on something that happened just across the river from here plays into the whole pathetic affair that was me getting around this week like a stroke of cosmic karmic genius.
Monday, May 27, 2013
Please Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood.
Lord knows that's been what I've been thinking, now, and probably most every day for the last nearly seven years. When you spend a good share of your day with people you don't really know, who really don't know you, but you can potentially have meaningful communication with, your reputation is all you have. Everything is impression management. The careless suffer. There's not much room for nuance or sophistication.
Anyone who really knows me, knows there's a lot going on in this mind of mine, but seldom does it amount to anything other than meandering rambles. They know that when it comes to things I Want to do, I simply pursue them. If it takes me a long time to make up my mind and get off the fence, then I already know that my desire is less than my apprehension about the risks that come with said pursuit. I try and go with my best judgement without being judgmental.
It's strange because I often find myself trying to protect people from protecting my feelings. I'm hyper aware of my flaws and shortcomings. Thanks to my experiences in school, where cruel insults and belittlement was the past-time, I can point out other people's flaws as well, but that's petty. The thing is, in my mind, any confidence I may present that to others seems out of place is simply my way of acknowledging that I know we are all masking/ hiding/ overcoming insecurities of one sort or another. In a world without deception, or dishonesty, a world of full disclosure, would things be healthier?
In seven years here's what I've learned about communication in my current situation:
What seems most obvious is usually the truth, and sad as it is, the cynical viewpoint, though it may close the door on what seems like potentially positive social relationships, is going to serve my best interest and emotional well-being the most. When you set yourself apart with your actions or inaction, you alienate yourself from those who chose other ways to live. That compounds any aesthetic or cultural incongruity involved. If people really want to relate to you, they will. If they don't relate to you, then leave it alone. If you can't be yourself with the people you're with, and can't justify changing to fit in (cause let's be honest, sometimes the problem is internal), then you're not with the right people.
If you can't agree on the terms of a deal, there's no deal. Every social relationship is a deal/ exchange, because communication is an exchange of information and meaning. If I keep failing to communicate, and have a hard time understanding what's being communicated to me, so much so that I have to step on toes... well, I have big feet, and I don't want to be known as the guy who always steps on peoples' toes. I put people on edge enough as it is. I'd rather just leave well enough alone and find somewhere with people it's easier to communicate with or less necessary to do so on the level at which I have to where I am.
At some point I've just grown wary of people being so delicate to each other face to face, but callous and caustic behind each others backs. If there's an elephant in the room, I want to talk about it, give it a peanut, a magic feather, let it take wing and fly free. If I'm not the only one who feels that way, no one is comfortable telling me. That's how I know I'm in the wrong place given what I value and my convictions. I'm in so many wrong places...
So, maybe I should have been praying this refrain day in and day out all this time? But then, I should know by now that people believe what they want to, filter out what doesn't coalesce with their disposition. I was educated to be objective and question my perceptions and biases, and even when I fail to do that, it's in my head, so much so that I tell myself "You are failing to see the whole picture, be very careful." That is another red flag that denotes excessive emotional entanglement and feedback interfering with effective communication. It's like living under a threat level. That's not what I signed up for, not what any of us signed up for.
All of this has me looking back at definitions of passive-aggressive behavioral tendencies, to see if I have fallen into them, or am being felled by them. The answer is yes. This seems to be the normative behavior in the environments where I find myself uncomfortable, and I'm uncomfortable with that too. I know who and what I want to be to other people, and alienated, detached, disingenuous, and passive-aggressive are not on the list, but all seem to be traits that are all too common. I'm going to just go with a strong dose of detached for the foreseeable future and pray to God that it's enough. Let go and Let God right?
Anyone who really knows me, knows there's a lot going on in this mind of mine, but seldom does it amount to anything other than meandering rambles. They know that when it comes to things I Want to do, I simply pursue them. If it takes me a long time to make up my mind and get off the fence, then I already know that my desire is less than my apprehension about the risks that come with said pursuit. I try and go with my best judgement without being judgmental.
It's strange because I often find myself trying to protect people from protecting my feelings. I'm hyper aware of my flaws and shortcomings. Thanks to my experiences in school, where cruel insults and belittlement was the past-time, I can point out other people's flaws as well, but that's petty. The thing is, in my mind, any confidence I may present that to others seems out of place is simply my way of acknowledging that I know we are all masking/ hiding/ overcoming insecurities of one sort or another. In a world without deception, or dishonesty, a world of full disclosure, would things be healthier?
In seven years here's what I've learned about communication in my current situation:
What seems most obvious is usually the truth, and sad as it is, the cynical viewpoint, though it may close the door on what seems like potentially positive social relationships, is going to serve my best interest and emotional well-being the most. When you set yourself apart with your actions or inaction, you alienate yourself from those who chose other ways to live. That compounds any aesthetic or cultural incongruity involved. If people really want to relate to you, they will. If they don't relate to you, then leave it alone. If you can't be yourself with the people you're with, and can't justify changing to fit in (cause let's be honest, sometimes the problem is internal), then you're not with the right people.
If you can't agree on the terms of a deal, there's no deal. Every social relationship is a deal/ exchange, because communication is an exchange of information and meaning. If I keep failing to communicate, and have a hard time understanding what's being communicated to me, so much so that I have to step on toes... well, I have big feet, and I don't want to be known as the guy who always steps on peoples' toes. I put people on edge enough as it is. I'd rather just leave well enough alone and find somewhere with people it's easier to communicate with or less necessary to do so on the level at which I have to where I am.
At some point I've just grown wary of people being so delicate to each other face to face, but callous and caustic behind each others backs. If there's an elephant in the room, I want to talk about it, give it a peanut, a magic feather, let it take wing and fly free. If I'm not the only one who feels that way, no one is comfortable telling me. That's how I know I'm in the wrong place given what I value and my convictions. I'm in so many wrong places...
So, maybe I should have been praying this refrain day in and day out all this time? But then, I should know by now that people believe what they want to, filter out what doesn't coalesce with their disposition. I was educated to be objective and question my perceptions and biases, and even when I fail to do that, it's in my head, so much so that I tell myself "You are failing to see the whole picture, be very careful." That is another red flag that denotes excessive emotional entanglement and feedback interfering with effective communication. It's like living under a threat level. That's not what I signed up for, not what any of us signed up for.
All of this has me looking back at definitions of passive-aggressive behavioral tendencies, to see if I have fallen into them, or am being felled by them. The answer is yes. This seems to be the normative behavior in the environments where I find myself uncomfortable, and I'm uncomfortable with that too. I know who and what I want to be to other people, and alienated, detached, disingenuous, and passive-aggressive are not on the list, but all seem to be traits that are all too common. I'm going to just go with a strong dose of detached for the foreseeable future and pray to God that it's enough. Let go and Let God right?
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
You Can Do What You Want To Whenever You Want To.
The blessing and curse of solitude is that you can make your own decisions about how you spend your time, so long as you don't require the presence of anyone else. Eat when you want, sleep when you want, read, write, dance, play, cry, pray, all at your own leisure, until your body relents. It's a bit of a trap because once you get a taste of peaceful solace, the pitfalls of coexistence become magnified. That's not to say that the perks of coexistence don't stand out when you find yourself alone when you would rather have company or support, it does happen from time to time. You can do bad by yourself, but why do bad when you can do better? That's the challenge.
Left to your own devices, maybe it's easier to see when you're being your own worst enemy, or maybe it's easier to delude yourself into thinking you're serving your own best interest? This is why a Healthy Perspective is a Godsend. We're lost without it, and seldom do we find it all by our lonesome. Thank the Lord for the written word. Ideas, transcribed, and clearly communicated, can open our eyes to certain truths we'd otherwise deny. But, who says you have to do anything if there's only you to answer to? It's a mixed blessing at best, a combination of liberation and condemnation, sort of like the song quoted (and linked) in the title above: equal parts content and defeated. Some ask, "What's the point in living if all you are doing is expediting your death?" That's a good question. Irreconcilable schisms invoke Nihilism, which usually precedes self-negation. It's the people who love you, and love having you in their life that can make the difference, otherwise...
"You can do what you want to,
whenever you want to,
though it doesn't mean a thing,
Big nothing."
~ Elliott Smith
Left to your own devices, maybe it's easier to see when you're being your own worst enemy, or maybe it's easier to delude yourself into thinking you're serving your own best interest? This is why a Healthy Perspective is a Godsend. We're lost without it, and seldom do we find it all by our lonesome. Thank the Lord for the written word. Ideas, transcribed, and clearly communicated, can open our eyes to certain truths we'd otherwise deny. But, who says you have to do anything if there's only you to answer to? It's a mixed blessing at best, a combination of liberation and condemnation, sort of like the song quoted (and linked) in the title above: equal parts content and defeated. Some ask, "What's the point in living if all you are doing is expediting your death?" That's a good question. Irreconcilable schisms invoke Nihilism, which usually precedes self-negation. It's the people who love you, and love having you in their life that can make the difference, otherwise...
"You can do what you want to,
whenever you want to,
though it doesn't mean a thing,
Big nothing."
~ Elliott Smith
Saturday, May 18, 2013
If I Told You A Secret, You Won't Tell A Soul, Will You Hold It and Keep It Alive?
I've had a lot on my mind for what seems like a lifetime. I've been harboring guilt and shame for things I did when I was 4 years old for the last 33 years, on top of every sinful thought and deed that's followed. Then on top of my own immorality rests the transgressions of others that I have been witness to, and not confronted or exposed. We truly are born into sin if you look at your existence as a collective experience inclusive of all that you take in vicariously through the actions and feelings of others around you.
I picked this song, Travis's Love Will Come Through, simply because I am at a loss for songs as of late, my literary mood has been elusive. Much like with my conscience, I can turn off my internal monologue and give "having perspective" a rest and just live moment to moment. It seems like a shortcut to escapism in a way. Well, I've decided to just embrace that inner monologue, and embrace my conscience. I had a dream last night that egged me on.
I was in some sort of situation where some strangers were asking something of me. I felt put out and alienated by whatever they asked, and maybe I snapped a little? One of these strangers transformed before my eyes, and admonished me for displaying a temper. The person became bird-like somehow to my eyes, but in some ways still human. It was a dream, and I could visually represent it with an illustration perhaps? The power of this entity's voice and tone conveyed an otherworldly authority. I woke up thinking about whether I do have a temper problem, and how that will be judged in the eyes of Righteousness.
I'd like to think I have a decent amount of control over my emotions. I always felt I'd come a long way since my early childhood where I would "go crazy" when upset, or my adolescence when I would punch holes in the drywall. But yeah, I am still an emotional person who's developed a lot of healthy and unhealthy coping mechanisms to prevent the unflattering emotional outbursts of my youth. Part of my problem may have been my active disassociation from my childhood and adolescence once I was able to literally escape it by relocating for college and severing most of those ties, or re-establishing them on adult terms. I may have thought I got over being angry and holding grudges, but I still have a bent for resentment that I wrestle with. I want to think I'll come out on the better side of that struggle more often that not.
With age and experience people get set in their ways, or so I've been warned. That flies in the face of the saying "learning is a life-long process." Whoever said that learning has to result in the application of that knowledge? I say this all the time, but it never fails to be true, "Just because you know better doesn't mean you'll do better." Knowing Better and Doing Better are related ideas, but that doesn't mean the prior will result in the latter. All that said, I'm reminded of a principle I was introduced to from a radio sermon that I used to offer as perspective to friends and strangers alike, "Love without honesty is cruelty. Honestly without love is brutality."
Anyway if we must err in this life, I hope we err on the side of True (Honest) Love. I hope I can, and do. Sometimes I wonder.
I picked this song, Travis's Love Will Come Through, simply because I am at a loss for songs as of late, my literary mood has been elusive. Much like with my conscience, I can turn off my internal monologue and give "having perspective" a rest and just live moment to moment. It seems like a shortcut to escapism in a way. Well, I've decided to just embrace that inner monologue, and embrace my conscience. I had a dream last night that egged me on.
I was in some sort of situation where some strangers were asking something of me. I felt put out and alienated by whatever they asked, and maybe I snapped a little? One of these strangers transformed before my eyes, and admonished me for displaying a temper. The person became bird-like somehow to my eyes, but in some ways still human. It was a dream, and I could visually represent it with an illustration perhaps? The power of this entity's voice and tone conveyed an otherworldly authority. I woke up thinking about whether I do have a temper problem, and how that will be judged in the eyes of Righteousness.
I'd like to think I have a decent amount of control over my emotions. I always felt I'd come a long way since my early childhood where I would "go crazy" when upset, or my adolescence when I would punch holes in the drywall. But yeah, I am still an emotional person who's developed a lot of healthy and unhealthy coping mechanisms to prevent the unflattering emotional outbursts of my youth. Part of my problem may have been my active disassociation from my childhood and adolescence once I was able to literally escape it by relocating for college and severing most of those ties, or re-establishing them on adult terms. I may have thought I got over being angry and holding grudges, but I still have a bent for resentment that I wrestle with. I want to think I'll come out on the better side of that struggle more often that not.
With age and experience people get set in their ways, or so I've been warned. That flies in the face of the saying "learning is a life-long process." Whoever said that learning has to result in the application of that knowledge? I say this all the time, but it never fails to be true, "Just because you know better doesn't mean you'll do better." Knowing Better and Doing Better are related ideas, but that doesn't mean the prior will result in the latter. All that said, I'm reminded of a principle I was introduced to from a radio sermon that I used to offer as perspective to friends and strangers alike, "Love without honesty is cruelty. Honestly without love is brutality."
Anyway if we must err in this life, I hope we err on the side of True (Honest) Love. I hope I can, and do. Sometimes I wonder.
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