You are the light at the end of the tunnel. I’m not sure exactly what that means but it sounds good and there just may be some truth to it. It came to me, what can I say? Something has occurred to me for awhile now. It will sound self-righteous to talk about but better to sound self-righteous on your blog than some other places.
It seems to me that a lot of people have no idea how to be happy. Maybe that’s not the right way to say it… What I mean is not many people seem to know how to facilitate their own happiness. I don’t think it’s any secret that as the wealthiest nation on Earth we are also the most heavily medicated and depressed/discontent. Serious depression is really another issue but the kind of low-level unease and discontent that I am talking about is very obviously rampant but also completely unnecessary.
From what I can tell there is a very simple cause for our collective dis-ease and it can be easily understood by recognizing how unprofitable personal contentment is. Factor in the overwhelming amount of advertising that the average person is exposed to, taking into account the proven fact that television puts a person into a semi-hypnotic and very suggestible state, and the picture starts to become very clear. There is a multi-billion dollar industry whose sole intention is to foster discontent and want. There is a very precise science behind it. Most people are aware of political propaganda but even more pervasive in our culture is commercial propaganda. We could call it “The War Against Your Personal Sense Of Satisfaction” or maybe “The War On Happiness”. It’s pretty easy to be defeated when you don’t even know you are being attacked.
It has become very clear to me that most of the population is slaving away and devoting their precious time and energy to chase a dream that someone else has defined for them. We are told what to want with such frequency and tenacity that eventually most of us give in, even if only subconsciously. Life really becomes one big commercial unless you make a very deliberate effort to make it otherwise.
Somewhere along the way we bought into the notion that we are incomplete beings. The truth is that there is absolutely nothing that can be added to any one of us. We are already whole, no credit card necessary. Happiness is an internal affair. In my humble opinion western psychology and religion have let us down when it comes to the art of happiness and practical matters of living well. Even our God is taught to be “out there”. All of the things that we are supposed to want are external. But any one of us could discover at any moment that everything a person could ever want or need is already right there within them.
There is a war for our attention and the things we focus on and think about most often will become our living reality. Individually speaking, external conditions become a reflection of one’s internal state. As a result of living on a constant diet of advertising and peer pressure from others on the same diet, many of us are in a state of perpetual want. And all of the things that we are supposed to want (and buy) and are supposed to separate us from the crowd and be such exquisite expressions of our personal individuality and self-worth are things that everyone is buying or already has. Most of the coveted symbols of success can be attained by almost anyone as long as they are willing to make the monthly payments and hey, most people are. I’m really not sure what’s so wonderful about driving an expensive new car or carrying a $200 handbag when you can barely make your minimum credit card payment as it is and at the price of your own sanity and peace of mind, but what do I know? You look around and this is what you see.
To the modern mind this is a preposterous concept; that happiness has nothing to do with what one possesses. But anyone who turns off the tv for a few days and steps away from the mass marketing blitzkrieg and maybe takes a little time each morning to sit alone and just be with themselves and their mind that hasn’t yet had time to be stirred up by the onslaught of the day’s events and the usual broken record thought patterns…(deep breath)…anyone who begins to do this on a regular basis and makes a concerted effort to escape from the mass mind will quickly understand the utter un-importance of just about any ‘thing’ as it relates to their happiness and well-being.
Yes, there is such a thing as a mass mind and group-think and escaping from it can be a bit like untangling oneself from a giant spider web but it can be done. Maybe human size fly paper is a better analogy than a spider web. The point is that is anyone can do it with a little will power and a willingness to acknowledge being stuck in something that really isn’t very good for you. So what if everyone else is doing it.
Really…the best things in life are free. If I continue to write blog posts about subjects and sentiments that are important to me that is probably a phrase that I will say quite often. The best things in life are free. I’ve found this to be true in my own life and by observing the lives of others. It would seem to me that what would be worthwhile is to pursue being free as a person, free from whatever it is that binds you, starting with that pile of possessions that you already have but don’t need and more importantly that mountain of possessions that you think you want and all the associated stress and energy wasting that goes along with acquiring it. There’s physical clutter and mental clutter but the former is significantly easier to dispose of than the latter. The removal of both is necessary if any of us are to find what it is that we are looking for.
An authentic pursuit of happiness and well-being has nothing to do with the fashion or pharmaceutical industries despite the fact that they spend billions trying to convince you otherwise. What everyone really wants is genuine happiness and peace of mind which, unfortunately, are in direct conflict with the popular culture of hyper-consumerism. Don’t try to buy what you already have. It’s already right there. All of this other stuff is just blocking your view.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Water Into Wine Back Into Water
This kind of an essay is hard to write. It’s hard because I don’t want to sound preachy. Other than my late grandfather I’m really not fond of preachers or preaching. Despite this I do think that for the most part their hearts are in the right place; at least 50% of the time anyway. (What the hell…I’m an optimist.) It’s really not important or necessary to wander off into a tirade about religion but I would like quote Mark Twain on the matter just to give a small overview and I’m probably not going to get this verbatim but I can get close enough to make the point.
“When it comes to matters of religion and politics, people’s opinions and beliefs are mostly gotten second hand from another person whose opinions were gotten second hand from another person who’s opinions on the matter aren’t worth a brass-farthing”
--Mark Twain
Whatever the hell a “brass-farthing” is you got me but it’s probably not that valuable of a thing. In any case I’ll let that quote be the extent of my opinion for the time being. Twain wasn’t perfect by any means but he had a very keen and penetrating mind and wasn’t scared to tell it like it was/is. I have tremendous respect for him for that. Unfortunately he never took his own advice on the pitfalls of human greed and his life can really be an example for us all, taking into account the good and the bad.
Alright I’m slapping myself on the wrist now. It’s really hard to stay on point sometimes especially when you don’t know what the point is until it comes down through the air into the grand central station of the mind and then somehow takes form as words that appear on the screen through all the hundreds of thousands of neurons simultaneously firing and sending messages to the dozens (maybe hundreds?) of muscles and nerve endings in the hands and fingers. Shit, that’s a long sentence but we really are fascinating creatures. It boggles the mind to think about it and that’s probably why most of the time we don’t. The fact that we are here at all defies all logic and reason and the fact that we can manage to do what we can do goes way beyond that. Clearly logic and reason have their limitations.
We are miraculous creatures and that fact probably shouldn’t be taken for granted as much as it is. Just my dog amazes the hell out of me and she can’t even spell her own name. But she sure can love in a way that any of us could aspire to and she can forgive and forget and not hold a grudge and face each and every moment of each and every day with an enthusiasm that puts Tony Robbins to shame and a sense of gratitude that is equally mind blowing. So in some ways I try to learn from her. Then again she does dine on a pile of her own shit occasionally. Hey none of us are perfect. Maybe that’s like McDonald’s in dog world. (ie: it won’t kill you immediately but you probably shouldn’t eat it too often)
What I’d like to allude to here – without telling anyone how sinful or depraved they are or how they are going to hell and how they need their soul ‘saved’, even without asking for a collection plate to be passed around – is that there is one aspect of our existence here that really takes precedence over everything else.
There is one thing that matters more than anything else because if that one area isn’t right nothing else will matter. If we neglect this one thing we won’t be able to enjoy anything else for more than about fifteen or twenty minutes or so. Nothing else will ever be enough. Nothing else is enough. If you get this one thing right you can afford to get a lot of other things wrong. And if you manage to handle this one area to the best of your ability the other things will tend to fall into place on their own. Even when they don’t you’ll still be okay and well equipped to handle the ever changing circumstances in which we all live.
To be clear on one thing, when I say “you”, I mean “me” also. It’s just a manner of speaking and I’m just expressing and reiterating some things that are near and dear to me and have been and continue to be of tremendous benefit to me.
So what am I talking about anyway? Ironically, there is no particular word for it. You may find it in religion and you may call it spirituality but to me those two words/concepts have certain connotations that really don’t do justice to what I’d hope to express here.
Let’s just assume that we are all souls on this great journey and that as souls we are ever evolving and perfecting and moving closer to something greater than our present state, though our present state is not to be looked down on or shunned in any way. In fact it’s a blessing and this evolution that we are a part of is ongoing and touches every facet of our lives and every tiny detail of our experience is a part of the grand whole. All of the religions touch on this in some way but there is a tendency to take things literally that weren’t meant to be taken literally and to misunderstand and misinterpret what is presented and for this institution that should be helpful to become possibly the biggest hindrance. It can be a great thing if we don’t let it overpower our reason and common sense and more importantly our own intuition. Really at best it can be the match that lights the fire and at worst it can have you strapping a bomb around yourself in the name of al-Lah.
I’m talking all around what I’m actually talking about but I’m hoping the point isn’t missed. If it is missed maybe I’ll try to do better next time. One thing is of greater importance than anything else. Eat, drink, and be merry but always keep this in mind. Inquire within, inquire without, but always inquire. Inquire more within than without. Have an internal sniff test for all of the inquiring without. Does it ring true deep within? If you have to make excuses for it or compromise something internally, don’t accept it outright.
“Why does the universe go to all the bother of existing?”
--Steven Hawking
What a question! But it does exist and so do we. Accident? Hmmm…
And we can even ponder that question which is certainly no accident and it may be the most important question even though an exact answer probably isn’t possible. What are you? What is this all? Why are we all here and where is this all leading? Important questions. Let’s not let Brittney Spears rehab or American Idol or ‘freedom fries’ drown out these questions for us. In my case right here right now, I’ll make sure not to let this watered down Shiraz that I’m getting into drown it out. One thing really is more important than anything else. The other stuff is just icing on the cake.
“When it comes to matters of religion and politics, people’s opinions and beliefs are mostly gotten second hand from another person whose opinions were gotten second hand from another person who’s opinions on the matter aren’t worth a brass-farthing”
--Mark Twain
Whatever the hell a “brass-farthing” is you got me but it’s probably not that valuable of a thing. In any case I’ll let that quote be the extent of my opinion for the time being. Twain wasn’t perfect by any means but he had a very keen and penetrating mind and wasn’t scared to tell it like it was/is. I have tremendous respect for him for that. Unfortunately he never took his own advice on the pitfalls of human greed and his life can really be an example for us all, taking into account the good and the bad.
Alright I’m slapping myself on the wrist now. It’s really hard to stay on point sometimes especially when you don’t know what the point is until it comes down through the air into the grand central station of the mind and then somehow takes form as words that appear on the screen through all the hundreds of thousands of neurons simultaneously firing and sending messages to the dozens (maybe hundreds?) of muscles and nerve endings in the hands and fingers. Shit, that’s a long sentence but we really are fascinating creatures. It boggles the mind to think about it and that’s probably why most of the time we don’t. The fact that we are here at all defies all logic and reason and the fact that we can manage to do what we can do goes way beyond that. Clearly logic and reason have their limitations.
We are miraculous creatures and that fact probably shouldn’t be taken for granted as much as it is. Just my dog amazes the hell out of me and she can’t even spell her own name. But she sure can love in a way that any of us could aspire to and she can forgive and forget and not hold a grudge and face each and every moment of each and every day with an enthusiasm that puts Tony Robbins to shame and a sense of gratitude that is equally mind blowing. So in some ways I try to learn from her. Then again she does dine on a pile of her own shit occasionally. Hey none of us are perfect. Maybe that’s like McDonald’s in dog world. (ie: it won’t kill you immediately but you probably shouldn’t eat it too often)
What I’d like to allude to here – without telling anyone how sinful or depraved they are or how they are going to hell and how they need their soul ‘saved’, even without asking for a collection plate to be passed around – is that there is one aspect of our existence here that really takes precedence over everything else.
There is one thing that matters more than anything else because if that one area isn’t right nothing else will matter. If we neglect this one thing we won’t be able to enjoy anything else for more than about fifteen or twenty minutes or so. Nothing else will ever be enough. Nothing else is enough. If you get this one thing right you can afford to get a lot of other things wrong. And if you manage to handle this one area to the best of your ability the other things will tend to fall into place on their own. Even when they don’t you’ll still be okay and well equipped to handle the ever changing circumstances in which we all live.
To be clear on one thing, when I say “you”, I mean “me” also. It’s just a manner of speaking and I’m just expressing and reiterating some things that are near and dear to me and have been and continue to be of tremendous benefit to me.
So what am I talking about anyway? Ironically, there is no particular word for it. You may find it in religion and you may call it spirituality but to me those two words/concepts have certain connotations that really don’t do justice to what I’d hope to express here.
Let’s just assume that we are all souls on this great journey and that as souls we are ever evolving and perfecting and moving closer to something greater than our present state, though our present state is not to be looked down on or shunned in any way. In fact it’s a blessing and this evolution that we are a part of is ongoing and touches every facet of our lives and every tiny detail of our experience is a part of the grand whole. All of the religions touch on this in some way but there is a tendency to take things literally that weren’t meant to be taken literally and to misunderstand and misinterpret what is presented and for this institution that should be helpful to become possibly the biggest hindrance. It can be a great thing if we don’t let it overpower our reason and common sense and more importantly our own intuition. Really at best it can be the match that lights the fire and at worst it can have you strapping a bomb around yourself in the name of al-Lah.
I’m talking all around what I’m actually talking about but I’m hoping the point isn’t missed. If it is missed maybe I’ll try to do better next time. One thing is of greater importance than anything else. Eat, drink, and be merry but always keep this in mind. Inquire within, inquire without, but always inquire. Inquire more within than without. Have an internal sniff test for all of the inquiring without. Does it ring true deep within? If you have to make excuses for it or compromise something internally, don’t accept it outright.
“Why does the universe go to all the bother of existing?”
--Steven Hawking
What a question! But it does exist and so do we. Accident? Hmmm…
And we can even ponder that question which is certainly no accident and it may be the most important question even though an exact answer probably isn’t possible. What are you? What is this all? Why are we all here and where is this all leading? Important questions. Let’s not let Brittney Spears rehab or American Idol or ‘freedom fries’ drown out these questions for us. In my case right here right now, I’ll make sure not to let this watered down Shiraz that I’m getting into drown it out. One thing really is more important than anything else. The other stuff is just icing on the cake.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Tread Lightly On Thyself
Someone that I love and care for deeply is in a serious battle with some personal issues and has been…well, possibly her entire life. The situation goes back to before she was in a position to have much of a say so in the matter. It’s not something that happened as a result of something she did or did not do. It’s not something she asked for and it is definitely not something anyone would wish for. But…it is. Like so many things, it just is. And now she gets to deal with the consequences and effects on a daily basis. It is the burden and struggle that mysteriously appeared on the doorstep of her life as an unwanted ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ gift from: God? The Universe? Karma maybe?
I’ve pretty much always been of the opinion that we are at least partly responsible for most of the difficulty that we encounter in life. This is a hard stance to take and it’s easy to cite examples that refute this line of reasoning. The situation I mentioned above is a good example. But at the same time I am my own best case study in this human experiment and for me, I could almost always trace the root of any problem back to myself somehow. Unfortunately doing this can have the result of being too harsh a critic of ones self and, if you’re not careful, it can spread to those around you also. I’ve been accused of being a perfectionist, and though I disagree, I’ve heard it enough times now to override my own opinion and accept that there may be some merit to the claim.
I have just about determined that there is some innate human need to feel emotionally victimized and since I didn’t have parents or family to whack at my self-esteem I guess I took the liberty of becoming my own personal bully. I really have to just smile or even laugh now when I look back and think about how I acted and how I treated myself in certain situations. Learning to be compassionate and patient with myself has been a major life lesson. I’m still in the process of trying to get it. We are all taught the importance of treating others well but seldom are we told the importance of treating ourselves with loving kindness also.
In any situation and at all times it is as if we have two ‘selves’. There’s the little self that – to borrow an analogy from a friend – gets battered around life like the ball in a pinball machine and who’s defining characteristic is one of reaction. Things happen and it reacts automatically. Think of a robot. Buttons get pushed and the robot does what it’s programmed to do. There is no 'choice' involved though there is the illusion of choice (which can make it all the more frustrating). This is the little self. Helpless and constantly having it’s buttons pushed by the external environment and by other robots, other little ‘selves’ that are equally helpless and reactionary. It’s really just the personality when comes down to it.
Then there is the big Self. This is the part of us beyond the personality that looks down on our foibles and failures in much the same way a parent would observe their child trying to learn to ride a bicycle. The parent will step in and offer some assistance here and there but realizes there is a certain amount of falling down necessary in order for the child to master this new skill. Lovingly and patiently the parent observes without judgment or criticism.
Our whole life is like this. Falling down…bumps, bruises, scrapes…then back up to try again. Repeat. Each time getting a little better, mastering some new skill, growing and learning. It’s more give than take and patience is required every step of the way, with ourselves and with each other. If we look back we can see that in almost every case we did the best we could given the knowledge and skill we possessed at the time. Life is more art than science. Even in the times we knew better or should have known better, something deeper was at work.
Forgiveness proves to be an invaluable asset as we travel along, inevitably hurting our selves and those around us as we fumble through trying to learn how to work the handlebars and the brakes and as we struggle to find our balance.
I’ve pretty much always been of the opinion that we are at least partly responsible for most of the difficulty that we encounter in life. This is a hard stance to take and it’s easy to cite examples that refute this line of reasoning. The situation I mentioned above is a good example. But at the same time I am my own best case study in this human experiment and for me, I could almost always trace the root of any problem back to myself somehow. Unfortunately doing this can have the result of being too harsh a critic of ones self and, if you’re not careful, it can spread to those around you also. I’ve been accused of being a perfectionist, and though I disagree, I’ve heard it enough times now to override my own opinion and accept that there may be some merit to the claim.
I have just about determined that there is some innate human need to feel emotionally victimized and since I didn’t have parents or family to whack at my self-esteem I guess I took the liberty of becoming my own personal bully. I really have to just smile or even laugh now when I look back and think about how I acted and how I treated myself in certain situations. Learning to be compassionate and patient with myself has been a major life lesson. I’m still in the process of trying to get it. We are all taught the importance of treating others well but seldom are we told the importance of treating ourselves with loving kindness also.
In any situation and at all times it is as if we have two ‘selves’. There’s the little self that – to borrow an analogy from a friend – gets battered around life like the ball in a pinball machine and who’s defining characteristic is one of reaction. Things happen and it reacts automatically. Think of a robot. Buttons get pushed and the robot does what it’s programmed to do. There is no 'choice' involved though there is the illusion of choice (which can make it all the more frustrating). This is the little self. Helpless and constantly having it’s buttons pushed by the external environment and by other robots, other little ‘selves’ that are equally helpless and reactionary. It’s really just the personality when comes down to it.
Then there is the big Self. This is the part of us beyond the personality that looks down on our foibles and failures in much the same way a parent would observe their child trying to learn to ride a bicycle. The parent will step in and offer some assistance here and there but realizes there is a certain amount of falling down necessary in order for the child to master this new skill. Lovingly and patiently the parent observes without judgment or criticism.
Our whole life is like this. Falling down…bumps, bruises, scrapes…then back up to try again. Repeat. Each time getting a little better, mastering some new skill, growing and learning. It’s more give than take and patience is required every step of the way, with ourselves and with each other. If we look back we can see that in almost every case we did the best we could given the knowledge and skill we possessed at the time. Life is more art than science. Even in the times we knew better or should have known better, something deeper was at work.
Forgiveness proves to be an invaluable asset as we travel along, inevitably hurting our selves and those around us as we fumble through trying to learn how to work the handlebars and the brakes and as we struggle to find our balance.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
A Beautiful And Terrifying Dance
The Vale Of Tears…Where did that phrase come from? I don’t know but I’ve seen it crop up in so many places and I get the feeling it’s been around for a long, long time. It is a timeless description of the world that we live in. If we could amass all of the tears that have been shed by human beings we would fill all of the world’s oceans several times over.
I am humbled and awed at the sheer magnitude of human suffering, at our ability to inflict and withstand it and our capacity to transcend it or become embittered by it. Buddha said that all life is suffering and then explained why and laid out a roadmap to overcoming it. Jesus said ‘In this world you will find trouble, but take heart, I have overcome the world’. Some few have managed to escape the inescapable and the potential surely lies within us all but the cost is high, or would seem so, and it requires facing things that most of us spend a lifetime running from. There is a reason for our massive addiction to distraction, our aversion to being alone with our thoughts, our obsessive need to be occupied by something – anything – no matter how trivial or harmful. We run but can never quite seem to get away. The underlying fear prevails and… “the mass of men live lives of quiet desperation”.
All too often and no matter who you are, life hurts. Physical pain is one thing and much easier dealt with. It’s easier to recognize what causes it and what to do to avoid or minimize it. Emotional pain is another animal. So much of it is self-inflicted and we are slower to learn; sometimes we refuse to learn. Our mind becomes imprinted and patterns of behavior and reaction develop. We end up doing the same things over and over again and getting the same bad results. Seldom do we question ourselves and explore the possibility of our own responsibility in the matter. Seldom are we even aware of what we are doing and are therefore confused as to why things are the way they are when they turn out the way that they do. Follow? (ha)
This life is (among other things) a classroom. It is much to our benefit to pay attention in class. Who/what is the teacher? Everything. It’s the entire range of experience from the devastating heartbreaks to the sublime moments of joy and happiness to the minutes and hours spent in boredom and monotony, an infinite number of opportunities to learn the interplay of cause and effect and the utter impermanence of everything around us. Ah yes…impermanence. It all fades away and so do we. We struggle with this one. Conditions are changing the moment we recognize and become comfortable with them, like a deck of cards that is being re-shuffled after every hand.
There are a wide variety of lessons available to us in each obstacle that we encounter along our way but the primary lesson is always the same and has something to do with accepting and letting go. We cannot bend the universe to our will but we can cooperate and become one with the will of the universe. After all, how could we ever be separate from it anywhere but in our own imagination?
By now we’ve all heard about the importance of letting go. We’ve probably also heard about the importance of living in the present moment. The present moment is a razors edge and anytime we are there, letting go comes naturally. The demons of our own creation that reside solely in our head become powerless when we wake up to find ourselves smack in the middle of eternity…which is now. We each have a certain amount of battle to do with these entities but they cease to exist when we withdraw attention from them.
In the meantime, the loss and suffering that we encounter can be shaping and molding us like heat melts and forms steel and we can let go over and over again; sometimes of our own accord and sometimes out of desperation. Either way we eventually get the point. Gradually we learn to love without attaching, work without obsessing about the end result, enjoy the fullness of the present moment and appreciate the ebb and flow of life. It’s a beautiful and terrifying dance but the song changes constantly and so do we. Each moment is a moment we can die to our past and cast off all of the misguided ideas we have formed about ourselves and feel the reality of the larger and eternal presence that is experiencing life through us right now.
I am humbled and awed at the sheer magnitude of human suffering, at our ability to inflict and withstand it and our capacity to transcend it or become embittered by it. Buddha said that all life is suffering and then explained why and laid out a roadmap to overcoming it. Jesus said ‘In this world you will find trouble, but take heart, I have overcome the world’. Some few have managed to escape the inescapable and the potential surely lies within us all but the cost is high, or would seem so, and it requires facing things that most of us spend a lifetime running from. There is a reason for our massive addiction to distraction, our aversion to being alone with our thoughts, our obsessive need to be occupied by something – anything – no matter how trivial or harmful. We run but can never quite seem to get away. The underlying fear prevails and… “the mass of men live lives of quiet desperation”.
All too often and no matter who you are, life hurts. Physical pain is one thing and much easier dealt with. It’s easier to recognize what causes it and what to do to avoid or minimize it. Emotional pain is another animal. So much of it is self-inflicted and we are slower to learn; sometimes we refuse to learn. Our mind becomes imprinted and patterns of behavior and reaction develop. We end up doing the same things over and over again and getting the same bad results. Seldom do we question ourselves and explore the possibility of our own responsibility in the matter. Seldom are we even aware of what we are doing and are therefore confused as to why things are the way they are when they turn out the way that they do. Follow? (ha)
This life is (among other things) a classroom. It is much to our benefit to pay attention in class. Who/what is the teacher? Everything. It’s the entire range of experience from the devastating heartbreaks to the sublime moments of joy and happiness to the minutes and hours spent in boredom and monotony, an infinite number of opportunities to learn the interplay of cause and effect and the utter impermanence of everything around us. Ah yes…impermanence. It all fades away and so do we. We struggle with this one. Conditions are changing the moment we recognize and become comfortable with them, like a deck of cards that is being re-shuffled after every hand.
There are a wide variety of lessons available to us in each obstacle that we encounter along our way but the primary lesson is always the same and has something to do with accepting and letting go. We cannot bend the universe to our will but we can cooperate and become one with the will of the universe. After all, how could we ever be separate from it anywhere but in our own imagination?
By now we’ve all heard about the importance of letting go. We’ve probably also heard about the importance of living in the present moment. The present moment is a razors edge and anytime we are there, letting go comes naturally. The demons of our own creation that reside solely in our head become powerless when we wake up to find ourselves smack in the middle of eternity…which is now. We each have a certain amount of battle to do with these entities but they cease to exist when we withdraw attention from them.
In the meantime, the loss and suffering that we encounter can be shaping and molding us like heat melts and forms steel and we can let go over and over again; sometimes of our own accord and sometimes out of desperation. Either way we eventually get the point. Gradually we learn to love without attaching, work without obsessing about the end result, enjoy the fullness of the present moment and appreciate the ebb and flow of life. It’s a beautiful and terrifying dance but the song changes constantly and so do we. Each moment is a moment we can die to our past and cast off all of the misguided ideas we have formed about ourselves and feel the reality of the larger and eternal presence that is experiencing life through us right now.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Outdoor Urination For Dummies
What follows is a cautionary tale. Be not fooled by the title; there is serious wisdom to be gleaned from the sentences and paragraphs that will be presented to you on this computer screen, unadorned, raw, unedited, bare and naked before your eager eyes and wanting mind. The author recounts this event at the risk of ridicule and embarrassment but considers this a small exchange if even a single person be saved from a similar fate as a result of this telling.
Let us go back now to when the author was just a young lad, capricious and full of wonderment…
The conditions were formidable. Frigid. Arctic-like. Indeed, had the temperature dropped another 32 degrees or so it would have been right around zero. Makes the author shiver just thinking about it. The location was remote, on the outskirts of the outskirts of town. This was before the dawning of the age of cheap cell phones so contact with civilization was not feasible.
The landscape was desolate. With the exception of the free-roaming cattle and the occasional screech of a buzzard or crow (aka “black bird of the devil”), it was barren, lifeless, and eerily silent. For all we knew the cattle had evil intentions and would devour us at the first opportunity. Sure, they looked all cute and cuddly but they were large and outnumbered us significantly and one could never know what was going on the mind of one of these beasts. They were not to be trifled with as far as the author was concerned.
Nothing was to be taken for granted here, one’s guard never to be let down. Without the industrial size cooler full of hot dogs, chips, sodas, cookies, granola bars, and other rations, undoubtedly we would have resorted to unspeakable acts of desperation to avoid starvation. The author shudders at the possibility of what might have transpired.
The sky was black and most were sound asleep in their tents. The author however was in a conundrum. Nature was calling. And when nature calls this author answers faster than you can say “Flomax*”. But he was safe and snug in the comfort of a warm tent and the air outside was icy and potentially vicious livestock lurked nearby. There were occasional strange and unidentifiable sounds that rang out in the night, like banshees or pterodactyls. The author was dismayed at the prospect of venturing out to do his deed. He remained in his sleeping bag, pondering his predicament. Natures urge became increasingly more difficult to ignore but the author was firm in his conviction to not venture out of the tent. He wrestled with the issue in his mind for an un-recalled length of time.
Then it came to him; an idea, a possible solution to this dilemma. The author clearly needed to relieve himself but was determined not to set one foot outside of the safety of his tent. Perhaps there might be a way to satisfy both requirements. His tent-mates were fast asleep and it was worth a shot. He carefully and quietly slipped out of his sleeping bag and eased his way to the doorway of the tent. Yes. This could work. Quiet as a mouse he propped up on his knees, slowly unzipped the opening to the tent and then unzipped something else.
R-E-L-I-E-F.
But something was awry. What the ?…it was no sooner than the author was experiencing the best sort of relief and basking in the glory of his ingenious idea that he felt a warm and wet sensation on his leg that signaled trouble. Uh-oh…big uh-oh. The author, true to his legendary reputation in technical and mechanical ingenuity, had failed to realize there was a second tent zipper that required unzipping; an outer screen that was virtually invisible in this darkness. But he was past the point of no return and the damage had been done. This was no flat surface and the damage was spreading and affecting other people in it’s wake, poor souls fast asleep and completely unaware of the peril they were in.
The author felt unbelievably better but now had a bona-fide moral dilemma on his hands. The decision was an easy one. Quietly he re-zipped the doorway (and his trousers) and eased back in to his sleeping bag. Mission accomplished though not without some collateral damage.
When daylight arrived it was obvious to everyone that something terrible had happened. It must have been a funny scene; all the commotion and not a single confession, a campfire mystery that would endure. The author was somehow one of the least likely suspects and managed to escape this entire incident unscathed, reputation unvarnished, though not without some guilt. To this day he considers it one of his greatest acts of deception and feels some twisted sense of accomplishment for pulling it off.
The author needed to get that off his chest. He feels better now. That secret has been with him a long time. He feels lighter, freer.
At this time it might seem appropriate to throw it out little phrases like ‘Tis better to be pissed off than pissed on’, and other epithets, but the author will spare you. One might think of R-Kelly also but he won’t go there either.
There is a moral as well as practical lesson to this story and the author hopes that it has been presented clearly and concisely. But just in case it has been lost in the delicate subtlety of this prose, he will spell it out for you one final time. Pay close attention and take heed. Re-read this several times daily if need be. Post it on your refrigerator. Whatever.
And never, ever forget….
If you’re going to piss out of a tent make sure you unzip the mother#$%!ing tent all the way.
(Now if you’ll excuse the author he’s got to make a quick run to the Al-Qaeda**.)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
* The author is perplexed as to why a drug intended to help bladder control is called Flomax. Reverse psychology he presumes.
**Al-Qaeda is actually Arabic slang for “toilet”; specifically ‘foreign toilet’, indicating an actual commode as opposed to a hole in the ground. Seriously.
Let us go back now to when the author was just a young lad, capricious and full of wonderment…
The conditions were formidable. Frigid. Arctic-like. Indeed, had the temperature dropped another 32 degrees or so it would have been right around zero. Makes the author shiver just thinking about it. The location was remote, on the outskirts of the outskirts of town. This was before the dawning of the age of cheap cell phones so contact with civilization was not feasible.
The landscape was desolate. With the exception of the free-roaming cattle and the occasional screech of a buzzard or crow (aka “black bird of the devil”), it was barren, lifeless, and eerily silent. For all we knew the cattle had evil intentions and would devour us at the first opportunity. Sure, they looked all cute and cuddly but they were large and outnumbered us significantly and one could never know what was going on the mind of one of these beasts. They were not to be trifled with as far as the author was concerned.
Nothing was to be taken for granted here, one’s guard never to be let down. Without the industrial size cooler full of hot dogs, chips, sodas, cookies, granola bars, and other rations, undoubtedly we would have resorted to unspeakable acts of desperation to avoid starvation. The author shudders at the possibility of what might have transpired.
The sky was black and most were sound asleep in their tents. The author however was in a conundrum. Nature was calling. And when nature calls this author answers faster than you can say “Flomax*”. But he was safe and snug in the comfort of a warm tent and the air outside was icy and potentially vicious livestock lurked nearby. There were occasional strange and unidentifiable sounds that rang out in the night, like banshees or pterodactyls. The author was dismayed at the prospect of venturing out to do his deed. He remained in his sleeping bag, pondering his predicament. Natures urge became increasingly more difficult to ignore but the author was firm in his conviction to not venture out of the tent. He wrestled with the issue in his mind for an un-recalled length of time.
Then it came to him; an idea, a possible solution to this dilemma. The author clearly needed to relieve himself but was determined not to set one foot outside of the safety of his tent. Perhaps there might be a way to satisfy both requirements. His tent-mates were fast asleep and it was worth a shot. He carefully and quietly slipped out of his sleeping bag and eased his way to the doorway of the tent. Yes. This could work. Quiet as a mouse he propped up on his knees, slowly unzipped the opening to the tent and then unzipped something else.
R-E-L-I-E-F.
But something was awry. What the ?…it was no sooner than the author was experiencing the best sort of relief and basking in the glory of his ingenious idea that he felt a warm and wet sensation on his leg that signaled trouble. Uh-oh…big uh-oh. The author, true to his legendary reputation in technical and mechanical ingenuity, had failed to realize there was a second tent zipper that required unzipping; an outer screen that was virtually invisible in this darkness. But he was past the point of no return and the damage had been done. This was no flat surface and the damage was spreading and affecting other people in it’s wake, poor souls fast asleep and completely unaware of the peril they were in.
The author felt unbelievably better but now had a bona-fide moral dilemma on his hands. The decision was an easy one. Quietly he re-zipped the doorway (and his trousers) and eased back in to his sleeping bag. Mission accomplished though not without some collateral damage.
When daylight arrived it was obvious to everyone that something terrible had happened. It must have been a funny scene; all the commotion and not a single confession, a campfire mystery that would endure. The author was somehow one of the least likely suspects and managed to escape this entire incident unscathed, reputation unvarnished, though not without some guilt. To this day he considers it one of his greatest acts of deception and feels some twisted sense of accomplishment for pulling it off.
The author needed to get that off his chest. He feels better now. That secret has been with him a long time. He feels lighter, freer.
At this time it might seem appropriate to throw it out little phrases like ‘Tis better to be pissed off than pissed on’, and other epithets, but the author will spare you. One might think of R-Kelly also but he won’t go there either.
There is a moral as well as practical lesson to this story and the author hopes that it has been presented clearly and concisely. But just in case it has been lost in the delicate subtlety of this prose, he will spell it out for you one final time. Pay close attention and take heed. Re-read this several times daily if need be. Post it on your refrigerator. Whatever.
And never, ever forget….
If you’re going to piss out of a tent make sure you unzip the mother#$%!ing tent all the way.
(Now if you’ll excuse the author he’s got to make a quick run to the Al-Qaeda**.)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
* The author is perplexed as to why a drug intended to help bladder control is called Flomax. Reverse psychology he presumes.
**Al-Qaeda is actually Arabic slang for “toilet”; specifically ‘foreign toilet’, indicating an actual commode as opposed to a hole in the ground. Seriously.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
"Dey Call Dat Girl Pooh-Cat!!"
The author feels it’s appropriate to preface the following commentary with a short tidbit regarding his background. From a very young age the other of this blog found himself in situations where he was the only white boy on a basketball court full of black boys. Even into the high school and early college years there were many occasions where he was the only white guy in the vicinity, more times than you could shake a stick at quite frankly. His history with black people is significant and somewhat colorful (pun not intended) and he only brings it up here in an attempt to make it clear to readers that he is anything but racist. Anyone who might be reading this and has known him outside of the ‘net can vouch to this. And not that it is particularly relevant to this discussion but the author would like to take this opportunity to also mention the fact that black people have been very good to him throughout his life.
Anyway…The author was on a little jaunt yesterday evening to pick up a pizza from Pizza Hut and had an experience that seemed worthy of a blog mention, inconsequential as it was.
Quick sidebar:
Yes, the author does occasionally put shitty food into his body but he does make every effort to keep this to a minimum and to his credit this was the new offering from Pizza Hut known as “The Natural” which supposedly contains all natural/organic ingredients including a whole grain crust. The author has no way of verifying this claim however and tends to have a healthy skepticism about this kind of advertising. While on this topic a quick quote comes to mind that originates with some sage of the Eastern persuasion saying something about it being not what goes into the body that defiles a man but what comes out of it. Please note that the author does not recommend using this as an excuse or rationalization for regularly ingesting the grease coated buzzard shit that passes for food and is inexpensively available on every American street corner.
The Pizza Hut trip…So the author was walking into Pizza Hut and was nearly bulldozed by a black woman who came barreling out of the door with alarming speed and astounding lack of regard for her surroundings and the people who might be in her path. The author made good use of his cat-like reflexes and dodged the threat resulting in a ‘near-miss’. This woman - of medium stature and wearing clothing that very much resembled ‘80s hooker attire – was also chatting on her cell phone at a volume that would ensure everyone within a thirty yard radius would hear every riveting detail of the conversation. Seeing as how the author and this individual essentially just whizzed right by each other, he only had the privilege of hearing one single phrase as it was blurted into the phone as if she thought she was speaking into an empty coffee can with a string attached to another coffee can some distance away: “DEY CALL DAT GIRL POOH-CAT!!”
Now the author has had more than his fair share of exposure to black culture and slang and at one time or another would’ve thought that he had heard it all but this pooh-cat thing stopped him dead in his tracks, struck by two simultaneous impulses: one of almost uncontrollable laughter bubbling up and the other of head-scratching confusion and exasperation. Refraining from either he proceeded to walk on in and pick up his Natural but “pooh-cat” was with him on the drive home. He had a good laugh in the car but also found the whole incident a little disturbing because it was representative of the type of behavior and lingo he was noticing more of lately.
The author at one time had an appreciation for rap music and in spite of the distasteful and negative connotations it carried, felt it did have some redeeming qualities. Unfortunately over the past six to seven years rap has undergone a grotesque transformation and morphed into something the author can hardly recognize. Indeed, he has his doubts that current rap lyrics are actually written by human beings but instead rather poorly constructed computer programs than churn songs out on an as needed basis and are then recited by gang members who are picked up off the street and perform in exchange for little more than a Cadillac Escalade and cubic zirconium tooth apparatus. The author would just as soon be locked in a closet with a rapacious wolverine than listen to this current rap music.
If the decline of rap music (and black slang) is any barometer or indication of the direction that society as a whole is taking, it is the author’s firm belief that we are headed for a cultural landscape that will make Mike Judge’s “Idiocracy” look like the European Age Of Enlightenment.
The author realizes he has gone on a bit too long for this type of blog entry and will close with some lyrics that are the chorus from what is a popular rap song at the moment:
“This is why, this is why, this is why I’m hot. I’m hot because I’m fly, you ain’t because you not. This is why, this is why, this is why I’m hot.”
“You ain’t because you not.” Let that sink in for a moment.
The author guesses that “Pooh-Cat” probably loves this song.
Footnote:
“The Natural” is actually quite tasty and if the author’s taste buds are any authority on the matter, the whole wheat/whole grain crust is legit. If you’ve gotta eat pizza and want to feel better about doing it, the author highly recommends “The Natural”. Coincidentally, the author also recommends the movie “The Natural” starring Robert Redford. You could even have a little theme night and dine on “The Natural” while watching “The Natural”.
Anyway…The author was on a little jaunt yesterday evening to pick up a pizza from Pizza Hut and had an experience that seemed worthy of a blog mention, inconsequential as it was.
Quick sidebar:
Yes, the author does occasionally put shitty food into his body but he does make every effort to keep this to a minimum and to his credit this was the new offering from Pizza Hut known as “The Natural” which supposedly contains all natural/organic ingredients including a whole grain crust. The author has no way of verifying this claim however and tends to have a healthy skepticism about this kind of advertising. While on this topic a quick quote comes to mind that originates with some sage of the Eastern persuasion saying something about it being not what goes into the body that defiles a man but what comes out of it. Please note that the author does not recommend using this as an excuse or rationalization for regularly ingesting the grease coated buzzard shit that passes for food and is inexpensively available on every American street corner.
The Pizza Hut trip…So the author was walking into Pizza Hut and was nearly bulldozed by a black woman who came barreling out of the door with alarming speed and astounding lack of regard for her surroundings and the people who might be in her path. The author made good use of his cat-like reflexes and dodged the threat resulting in a ‘near-miss’. This woman - of medium stature and wearing clothing that very much resembled ‘80s hooker attire – was also chatting on her cell phone at a volume that would ensure everyone within a thirty yard radius would hear every riveting detail of the conversation. Seeing as how the author and this individual essentially just whizzed right by each other, he only had the privilege of hearing one single phrase as it was blurted into the phone as if she thought she was speaking into an empty coffee can with a string attached to another coffee can some distance away: “DEY CALL DAT GIRL POOH-CAT!!”
Now the author has had more than his fair share of exposure to black culture and slang and at one time or another would’ve thought that he had heard it all but this pooh-cat thing stopped him dead in his tracks, struck by two simultaneous impulses: one of almost uncontrollable laughter bubbling up and the other of head-scratching confusion and exasperation. Refraining from either he proceeded to walk on in and pick up his Natural but “pooh-cat” was with him on the drive home. He had a good laugh in the car but also found the whole incident a little disturbing because it was representative of the type of behavior and lingo he was noticing more of lately.
The author at one time had an appreciation for rap music and in spite of the distasteful and negative connotations it carried, felt it did have some redeeming qualities. Unfortunately over the past six to seven years rap has undergone a grotesque transformation and morphed into something the author can hardly recognize. Indeed, he has his doubts that current rap lyrics are actually written by human beings but instead rather poorly constructed computer programs than churn songs out on an as needed basis and are then recited by gang members who are picked up off the street and perform in exchange for little more than a Cadillac Escalade and cubic zirconium tooth apparatus. The author would just as soon be locked in a closet with a rapacious wolverine than listen to this current rap music.
If the decline of rap music (and black slang) is any barometer or indication of the direction that society as a whole is taking, it is the author’s firm belief that we are headed for a cultural landscape that will make Mike Judge’s “Idiocracy” look like the European Age Of Enlightenment.
The author realizes he has gone on a bit too long for this type of blog entry and will close with some lyrics that are the chorus from what is a popular rap song at the moment:
“This is why, this is why, this is why I’m hot. I’m hot because I’m fly, you ain’t because you not. This is why, this is why, this is why I’m hot.”
“You ain’t because you not.” Let that sink in for a moment.
The author guesses that “Pooh-Cat” probably loves this song.
Footnote:
“The Natural” is actually quite tasty and if the author’s taste buds are any authority on the matter, the whole wheat/whole grain crust is legit. If you’ve gotta eat pizza and want to feel better about doing it, the author highly recommends “The Natural”. Coincidentally, the author also recommends the movie “The Natural” starring Robert Redford. You could even have a little theme night and dine on “The Natural” while watching “The Natural”.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
The Long And Weary Path
In much the same way he did every day at this time an elderly man walked hurriedly up the narrow lane, careful not to make eye contact with anyone, cursing under his breath this fate that had befallen him, silently resentful of the passers-by who were clearly more fortunate than himself. Today was like any other day for him. The breeze felt too cold and the sky was too white and blinding. The air was uncomfortably humid and each step seemed to bring a little more discomfort than the step before it. This had been going on for many years now.
It wasn't only the walking that had become progressively more difficult but the burden of life itself seemed to compound as today's troubles were heaped upon yesterday's troubles which were piled upon the troubles from the day before that. This progression went back as far as the man could remember. Things might have been better or different at some point in time but any memory of that was long gone. Even the narrow lane he was now walking on somehow seemed steeper and more foreboding than it had in previous times though he couldn't work out in his mind how this could possibly be true. There were many things he was unable to work out in his mind.
How many years now? How many years had it been since he had made the decision to walk this particular path at the exclusion of all others? Of course the answer to this question had long since faded from his memory. It really wasn't important anyway. He told himself this frequently. It wasn't important that there may have been other less cumbersome paths that would have been more kind to him over the years. It was useless to consider that indeed there may still be other options available, even now, after all that had happened. No. The decision had been made and that was that. Or was it?
In what had lately become a very rare occurrence – so rare that he could not recall the last time it had happened - a fresh and interesting thought appeared in his mind, a mind that had been repeating the same dreary and pointless cycle of thoughts for decades, a mind unable and unwilling to escape the inertia of it’s own bleak and self-defeating momentum. This thought came to him as a result of the previous question about his decision to tread this very path that he found himself on right now. Admittedly he had never questioned this decision before and admittedly this path had robbed him of his vitality, his youth, his optimism, his compassion, and an infinite number of other precious things that were now beyond the scope of his ability to remember them. Truly, the oppressiveness and weariness of this path could never be overstated.
The thought he had was this: Had he actually made the decision to travel this route he had been traveling for all of these years? Had it been a conscious choice? In what was an equally rare occurrence the man suddenly slowed his pace as he continued to make his way up the long and winding lane. He had walked this way thousands, maybe tens of thousands of times and how seldom it was that he ever actually slowed down. It was the unpleasantness of the surroundings that usually had him moving along as quickly as he possibly could, hoping to arrive at a more agreeable destination but (now that he thought about it) never actually achieving that.
No… He was sure of it. He had never actually made the decision to travel on this unfriendly, insufferable path. The decision had somehow been made for him. Almost everyone traveled this same path, which seemed to be the only reason – as far as he could tell – that anyone traveled this path at all.
By this time the man had stopped in his tracks and was standing completely, absolutely, still. This was much more than a rare occurrence. This – in fact – was something that had never happened before in the man’s history. Suddenly his surroundings seemed alien and hostile, even more so than before, and the sky became dark. Something like fear gripped him but it was stronger than any fear he had known before. It came over him with such ferocity and quickness that the term ‘fear’ was inadequate to describe exactly what he was feeling. Maybe this was it. Maybe death was approaching. But...there was this sound, far off in the distance, very faint. It was a sound so improbable - indeed impossible - given where he was.
The strangeness of such a sound in these surroundings was enough to rid the man of the crippling fear he had experienced just seconds prior to hearing it. Surely he must be losing his mind. It was faint but he could now begin to recognize what he was hearing, such a beautiful sound that it was. Music…Mozart? Beethoven? He couldn’t tell. He had never had much skill in identifying composers. And how many years had it been since he had heard music? The real question however, was how in the world was it possible to be hearing music in this environment. It was physically impossible and he knew this.
But something about the improbability of what was occurring sparked a flood of insight and realization about many of the questions that had appeared in his mind over the past few minutes or hours – whichever the case was – he wasn’t sure now, answers about the path and his choices and his present condition and other wonderful and fascinating things that he had no context for. The sky was no longer dark and his surroundings no longer seemed hostile but rather the exact opposite. Bright white light was pervading the atmosphere at a gradually increasing rate. The trees (which usually seemed like looming, malicious beasts of prey) now seemed not only friendly and welcoming, but almost sacred. He felt as if they - along with every plant, flower, and blade of grass - were smiling warmly at him, unmistakably aware of his own presence and miraculous beyond description. And this music...this symphony of music…so strange and out of place, becoming clearer and louder and more confusing, but the concept of confusing was becoming a moot point as events continued to unfold.
The light became even brighter and the music even louder; unbearably bright, and now impossibly loud. Everything else began to recede into the background. And then…
The morning sunlight flooded into the bedroom as Ben slowly opened his eyes, grinning and quite pleased with himself for changing the dial last night on his alarm clock radio from the hard rock station to classical.
It wasn't only the walking that had become progressively more difficult but the burden of life itself seemed to compound as today's troubles were heaped upon yesterday's troubles which were piled upon the troubles from the day before that. This progression went back as far as the man could remember. Things might have been better or different at some point in time but any memory of that was long gone. Even the narrow lane he was now walking on somehow seemed steeper and more foreboding than it had in previous times though he couldn't work out in his mind how this could possibly be true. There were many things he was unable to work out in his mind.
How many years now? How many years had it been since he had made the decision to walk this particular path at the exclusion of all others? Of course the answer to this question had long since faded from his memory. It really wasn't important anyway. He told himself this frequently. It wasn't important that there may have been other less cumbersome paths that would have been more kind to him over the years. It was useless to consider that indeed there may still be other options available, even now, after all that had happened. No. The decision had been made and that was that. Or was it?
In what had lately become a very rare occurrence – so rare that he could not recall the last time it had happened - a fresh and interesting thought appeared in his mind, a mind that had been repeating the same dreary and pointless cycle of thoughts for decades, a mind unable and unwilling to escape the inertia of it’s own bleak and self-defeating momentum. This thought came to him as a result of the previous question about his decision to tread this very path that he found himself on right now. Admittedly he had never questioned this decision before and admittedly this path had robbed him of his vitality, his youth, his optimism, his compassion, and an infinite number of other precious things that were now beyond the scope of his ability to remember them. Truly, the oppressiveness and weariness of this path could never be overstated.
The thought he had was this: Had he actually made the decision to travel this route he had been traveling for all of these years? Had it been a conscious choice? In what was an equally rare occurrence the man suddenly slowed his pace as he continued to make his way up the long and winding lane. He had walked this way thousands, maybe tens of thousands of times and how seldom it was that he ever actually slowed down. It was the unpleasantness of the surroundings that usually had him moving along as quickly as he possibly could, hoping to arrive at a more agreeable destination but (now that he thought about it) never actually achieving that.
No… He was sure of it. He had never actually made the decision to travel on this unfriendly, insufferable path. The decision had somehow been made for him. Almost everyone traveled this same path, which seemed to be the only reason – as far as he could tell – that anyone traveled this path at all.
By this time the man had stopped in his tracks and was standing completely, absolutely, still. This was much more than a rare occurrence. This – in fact – was something that had never happened before in the man’s history. Suddenly his surroundings seemed alien and hostile, even more so than before, and the sky became dark. Something like fear gripped him but it was stronger than any fear he had known before. It came over him with such ferocity and quickness that the term ‘fear’ was inadequate to describe exactly what he was feeling. Maybe this was it. Maybe death was approaching. But...there was this sound, far off in the distance, very faint. It was a sound so improbable - indeed impossible - given where he was.
The strangeness of such a sound in these surroundings was enough to rid the man of the crippling fear he had experienced just seconds prior to hearing it. Surely he must be losing his mind. It was faint but he could now begin to recognize what he was hearing, such a beautiful sound that it was. Music…Mozart? Beethoven? He couldn’t tell. He had never had much skill in identifying composers. And how many years had it been since he had heard music? The real question however, was how in the world was it possible to be hearing music in this environment. It was physically impossible and he knew this.
But something about the improbability of what was occurring sparked a flood of insight and realization about many of the questions that had appeared in his mind over the past few minutes or hours – whichever the case was – he wasn’t sure now, answers about the path and his choices and his present condition and other wonderful and fascinating things that he had no context for. The sky was no longer dark and his surroundings no longer seemed hostile but rather the exact opposite. Bright white light was pervading the atmosphere at a gradually increasing rate. The trees (which usually seemed like looming, malicious beasts of prey) now seemed not only friendly and welcoming, but almost sacred. He felt as if they - along with every plant, flower, and blade of grass - were smiling warmly at him, unmistakably aware of his own presence and miraculous beyond description. And this music...this symphony of music…so strange and out of place, becoming clearer and louder and more confusing, but the concept of confusing was becoming a moot point as events continued to unfold.
The light became even brighter and the music even louder; unbearably bright, and now impossibly loud. Everything else began to recede into the background. And then…
The morning sunlight flooded into the bedroom as Ben slowly opened his eyes, grinning and quite pleased with himself for changing the dial last night on his alarm clock radio from the hard rock station to classical.
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