Archive for May, 2010

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Limbo vs transition

May 31, 2010

I think it comes down to perspective. I have yet to percieve which one I’m existing in. I’ll get back to you on that.
However, it could be argued that if I’m even pondering which state I inhabit, it must be transitional. I don’t know that limbo is really conduscive to consideration of forward movement.

It could also be argued that limbo just is, whereas transition is about to be. And since I just am, regardless of who or what or where or when I am about to be, is it possible I could be occupying both states at once?

In a transitive limbo? Which could certainly refer to me being unable to fully “move in” i.e ‘unpack’ until my utterly and disgustingly well loved but rarely cleaned living room carpet is replaced with a wood floor. As a result there are boxes in the kitchen, spare room, my room in anticipation of the day they will be unpacked. The living room lies in wait of the day it will have furniture, perhaps even a nice rug that doesn’t stretch all the way across the room which has an actual name that I’ve forgotten for some reason.

Limbic transit? Hmm, that seems to indicate that my paleomammelian brain parts are shifting. New synaptic pathways are being cleared for a whole new realm of emotional experience. Which certainly fits, given that I’ve had a fairly life changing event happen recently, what with the father figure I liked best dancing nimbly from this mortal coil. Regardless of the time I had to prepare, regardless of how pragmatic I feel about death in general, there’s still a…see, I don’t know what there is. I don’t have words for it yet. Which I find a little confusing, because of how impressively verbose I can be about most things. Maybe it’s because while I see death as inevitable, I don’t really understand it, what with me being alive and all.

So I’ll finish today with a random quote by George Bernard Shaw which has a moderate amount of relevance when taken in concert with my last post or any future post regarding my desire to affect change in the world?

“The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.”

And those who know me best, know how maddeningly unreasonable I can be, so perhaps there’s hope yet.

Until the next darlings, I’ll keep the rainy days at bay with those umbrellas of Cherbourg..watching a young Catherine Deneuve and Nino Castelnuovo fall in love and sing for a couple of hours doesn’t hurt either… yes I loves me some musicals. Bon soir mes cheries.

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Inspiration

May 30, 2010

So this is us, the colorful ones.
Expressionists of nature, of appeal, of desire, of satisfaction
We clothe ourselves in the trappings of culture
Of experience
Hopeful of reciprocation, of acknowledgement
Free of judgment, of condemnation.

At times shouting aloud, sometimes
Shyly issuing our declarations of spirit
Joyful expectation
that individuality be recognized
While adhering to convention
By paying homage
To those things we most admire.

The music we dance to,
our beats the same
our rhythms in beauteous synchopation
Of something we know without ever having to learn it,
even if we forget for a time.

The adage that you can never go home is a false one.
We are never anywhere else.

Every so often, something comes along that truly inspires me to be great, to be joyful, to be compassionate and understand that I am not alone in my fears, my desires, my dreams of living a life filled with expression and happiness. I have spent so much of my life railing against the idea of conformity, but never community. I think that man’s idea of what community is has become warped, perhaps through fear or desire to have more of whatever is available. The sense I get of the word community is best expressed when it’s separated into common unity. Sadly for some, the belief of what it is stems from a place that excludes, rather than includes.

There are many things that are truly universal, but only a few of those are acknowledged as such. Music is one such thing, and the ability to express one’s culture through music is something that should always be celebrated, always be shared. Sadly, this is not the case most often. Music is used as a tool for consumerism, to establish boundaries between who we are as people. People who listen to one type of music can have disdain for those who prefer another. Music is generated not from the heart, or the soul, but from a place of manipulation and control.

I want to affect positive change in the world. I want the world to reflect how I feel about myself, my family and friends, my culture, my planet. My frustration comes from the fact that the reality I inhabit is much different from the reality that goes on outside of my delightful little bubble. In my world, differences are celebrated just as readily as similarities. In my world, non human animals are treated with kindness and dignity, whether or not they become our sustenance. In my world, the ideal is a home filled with a greater emphasis on laughter and joy and love, rather than the shiniest new appliances, electronics and furniture. Time is devoted to education and health, rather than brutality and domination.

For so long I’ve been so angry. I believed that affecting change was the important thing, making people see where they were going wrong. The action didn’t matter, as long as the result was humans existing with their eyes open to the errors of their ways. But in order to affect positive change, the action has to be positive, to come from a place of compassion. And so my quiet revolution began. I stopped eating meat, as I didn’t want to eat anything that had been scared or tortured. Why should I benefit from the suffering of others? I never really bought brand name clothing, so that one wasn’t difficult, as I didn’t want to contribute to a consumer society dependent on people who were paid nothing to make clothing I would spend far too much on. I shop at second hand stores, because the first two R’s are REDUCE and REUSE. Recycle was a last ditch effort if the first two didn’t work out and I think a lot of people have forgotten that. I do my best to shop locally. I well admit, I’m not militantly vigilant on these principles, but these principles exist for me. Every day is a chance to have a revolution.

As I get older, I feel more and more like the human race is doomed. It’s saddens me, but it’s how I feel. I’m frustrated with the lack of global effort towards ending war, famine and desecration of the planet. I feel as though we’ve come far enough in our evolution, and we’re aware enough of what’s wrong to really stop the madness and affect change. Yet it doesn’t stop.  So more and more I feel as though I’d like to cast off this mantle of humanity and move to the jungle, back to the trees, hang with some chimps. Crawl back into the ocean and swim into the sunset with the dolphins. Hang out with some sentient beings who aren’t hellbent on their own destruction.

Then, every so often, a light appears. Some humans appear in my sphere of reality who really are doing something to affect great global unity. And it makes me think, ok, maybe I’ll put off the tree climbing expedition for a little while yet. There are so many who do these great things. Do I have an awareness of them all? Hell no. Is it fair to single out only two when there are so many others working just as hard? Probably not. But where there are two, there are three, and then six, 18, 39, 76, and so on….wouldn’t it be awesome if that number reached into the billions?

Hells yeah.

These two that I’m referring to? They work under the moniker 1 Giant Leap. Seriously worth checking it out. If it can inspire a hopeful misanthrope like me to have confidence, be optimistic that we’re not completely fuckered as a species, they must be doing something right. Cynicism gets so tiring, hope and joy are so much more rewarding.  And if that joy has a soundtrack accompaniment? Huzzah, I say! To be honest, I was already inspired by the work they’ve been doing for a few years now. I finally went on the website and actually let them know that (kudos and recognition are so underrated) and wonder of wonders, BOTH of them wrote back to me, independently of each other, within about 12 hours of me sending the note.  Needless to say, it just reinforced that they are truly awesome guys, who are doing truly awesome things.                     

Thanks for that, Jamie Catto and Duncan Bridgeman, brilliant work. Any time you’re around my neck of the woods, feel free to stop by for tea.

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Isolation

May 26, 2010

When I leave the house without my ipod, whether or not I intended to, I often have a moment of panic.

Not because my day will be unmusical as a result. On the contrary, there is a constant barrage of cacophonic sound around me all the time, whether citified or countryside. No, the panic stems from the fact that without my buffer, I am trapped within the social mechanisms of everyday existence.
Granted, I enjoy putting my life to music. It’s much easier to believe that one is the centre of the universe when there are musical numbers springing forth from everystreet corner, as there are in all those films I grew up watching with excitement and expectation that one day my life would reflect these colorful dance routines. The way that people across the street keep pace with whatever beat is playing, the way that birds circle in time with an orchestral movement. It all allows me to dwell in a place that is under my charge, my control. Without the constant music, safely ensconced within my noise cancelling headphones, I am at the mercy of a world that does what it will, without my input.
If I am wearing headphones, suddenly I am lost in a sea of me and only me. I am not required to make contact with anyone or anything I see. It is up to me to have an awareness of what happens around me to the extent that I must be more alert than if I was interactive. I can’t hear a horn honk, it’s up to me to be hyperware when crossing the street. All of this adds to the experience, even while it takes away in other respects. I don’t have to acknowledge anyone’s existence and they must respect that because I am locked into a world of my own choosing. That doesn’t always happen, sometimes people will barge in, determined to acquire whatever information it is that they seek, information they believe I have, sometimes oblivious to the fact that I’ve tuned myself to a completely different frequency than that of ‘man on the street.’
But suddenly the obligatory eye contact or the more usual eye avoidance is not even an issue. If I smile while walking, it’s not construed as the look of a crazy person (because who just smiles to themselves while they’re walking down the street alone? Crazy people, obviously.) it’s probably in concert with a song I’m listening to that makes me think of happy times.
The downside to this, besides the obvious detriment to social interaction, is that a lot of the time I’m using the music to transport me someplace I’d rather be, someplace I’ve been before, someplace I’m going to be. None of which is either here or now. Once again, back to the cycle of projecting into the future or dwelling on the past without experiencing the present, albeit rarely.

As a result, I’ve left the house twice in the past two days(amazing!) because of a need for lightbulbs, swimming pool schedule, a cutting board, pay off library fines, groceries, other tidbits that make urban living more pleasant and expensive. Both times, I made a concentrated effort not to take my ipod with me. Partly in order to actually experience the walk for what it is, a stroll through a bustling neighborhood in the first throes (perhaps) of summer. Partly because I haven’t updated my playlist to something befitting a wander down commercial drive.

But Trish, you say, if the songs on the mp3 player are from your collection, then obviously you like them. Where’s the harm in going for a walk with what’s already there? That, my darlings, is a post for another time. But really, does something like that need explaining? Someone asked me once, why do I have soooo much music? Is it really necessary? Yes. Do we like to wear the same clothes every day? Eat the same food? Drink the same tea? Hells no. This morning I had brazilian baia tea (which is made by Twinings and not sold in canada for some ungodly reason, especially since I just drank the last of what I had this morning and may just have to return to Costa Rica for more), tomorrow it might be vanilla honeybush. Today it was Wolf Parade on the stereo, tomorrow might be the National. Moods change, music suits that purpose, as does tea, clothes and even wigs. How silly would it be to but 8 wigs of the same hairstyle and color? Much too silly for this silly thing.

Back in the city again. It’s only fitting that my first blahg should reflect that. There will be more to come darlings, especially since I have much in the way of time on my hands, and much in the way of thoughts in my head, regardless of how silly and rambly they be.

Until the next.

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