Manifold Rumination
Jan 31, 2010 faith
One down, 119 to go… seems almost unimaginable that we’re done with the first month of the new decade.
It feels like I need more computing power in my head just to keep up with all I want to do and know. I’m feeling scattered, smothered and covered (not unlike Waffle House hash browns, yum!), I want answers, resolution, progress and joy. I’m reading books on who I am and how to yank it out of me, and just finished “Have a Little Faith” by Mitch Albom. I’m deep diving some thought provoking blogs, and delving into new territories of research at work. No new [finished] songs yet for the year, but there’s lots cooking.
To say I’m living in a whirlwind is an understatement, not just my own life, but the world seems one imbalance away from us having to navigate our existence as never before. From the disaster in Haiti to the often unheeded warning signs about to cause unprecedented fiscal and moral catastrophe within our once beloved borders, our once respected America. It’s almost like “we the people” have been hypnotized or we’re hibernating, will we awaken, snap out of it?
The political blame games, the Fed, the lack of reverence for human life, the expulsion of God from society, the ACLU, ACORN, the demise of capitalism, on and on… yet, special interest agendas and rights for individuals (not the people) constantly appear to be trumping common sense and civility. I cringe when I hear the folks crying out for unity and harmony, then see our “leadership” Mirandizing terrorists who want to inflict carnage on our own soil, what? To those who complain about having to take their shoes off at airport security because they see the shoe bomber’s attempt as a one-off mistake, are you for real?
Many ask, why can’t we all just get along? I guess I’d answer with another question: who is the “we”?
In my circle of friends, at home, at work, for the most part, we all get along. But there are certain neighborhoods near the very house in which I live, not so much. Forget about taking a late night stroll through once prospering neighborhoods in high profile cities like Atlanta, LA or Dallas, not wise, not safe. No need to go into what other countries do to people who inadvertently cross a border or disagree with a fundamental nationally imposed belief.
Conflict breeds innovation and war: yin and yang. The heart of man is a vile, corrupt. We tolerate and accept ideas and doctrines either because we’re forced to or because we’re too lazy to confront, perhaps driven by apathy. Some write endlessly about how one president or another is goat or hero, while the Fed, an unregulated entity, continues printing treasury bills, egregiously adding to the debt our children’s grandchildren will be accountable to cover in decades to come (FYI: the national debt is a a stack of $1000 bills that’s eight (8) miles high).
The shell game goes on, the media tells us what they want us to hear, the suspicious dig for truth. There is a body of folks that just wants to live equitably and nobly being worn down by big government, and social agendas that don’t even begin to solve real problems. Like the campaign promise rehash we got this week (aka State of the Union), and the finger wagging, see things my way or else, it’s a broken record — one that’s played over and over, the needle is dull and the static growing louder.
It’s January 31, 2010, only one month into the new decade, so much has transpired. In the news, in my own head, in my very life. Funneling it all into manageable chunks I can process and filter to keep my being moving forward without being overwhelmed is not easy, not at all. I can chose to put my hope in man-centered efforts and ideologies or have faith in the unseen.
I choose the latter. Not to impose, not to shut out those who don’t believe or agree, but hopefully to be a better me, as part of a better place, for the sake of better times.
Failure is an Option
Jan 18, 2010 ramblings
I was walking by a cube and noticed a sign stating “Failure is not an option.” At first I thought, wow, that’s dedication and determination. Later, however, I wondered, what does this person do? What do they create? Heck, if all I set out to do must succeed, I’m doomed! And how will I learn? What can I explore, how many chances to mold the clay do I get, can’t I ball it up and try again if the pot I spin really sucks?
I’d never write another song, or play another gig, shoot a photo, attempt to teach my kids, or try to be taught… I mean, really, failure is not an option? Obviously, the context here is not about being a screw up, but in the realm of creativity and how we do what we do for a living. If I don’t try I can’t fail… if I don’t stretch myself to be better at things I don’t know or yet do well, I won’t fail. Neither will I be fulfilled as an artist or just being.
So, at least for me, failure is an option.
“I am not discouraged, because every wrong attempt discarded is another step forward.” — Thomas Edison
Spare Change
Jan 10, 2010 ramblings
Not sure why it’s taken me this far into the New Year to post (FWIW), until I got to thinking about it… there’s lots going on!
On top of winding down from the holiday season, which has only been a week now, I’m transitioning out of a training/education centric approach to writing and performing to generating product and getting it [and me] out there. This means some real discipline at home in the studio, because I don’t have the funds for studio time. It also means figuring out how to build a fan base, both live and virtually, as well as getting back into networking with our local creative community.
If I didn’t have a 50hr. a week day job, no problem. But I do, and I can’t let it be a problem. I also need to be sure I don’t get frustrated when the game plan isn’t producing as fruitfully as I’d hoped, or I need to deviate to hit a target. The key is to keep moving forward and adapt with whatever is happening. So, if my home recordings don’t get produced as well as I think they ought, I still need to get product out the door, or there’s nothing to share. If I don’t go and sit and wait 2-hrs to play 2-songs at an open mic, I won’t get to meet other writers to write with or maybe play in the round with. Sure, I can’t be out every night, so I need to plan when I’m going to attend a week night show where friends are playing and work from home the next day so I can sneak an extra 30 minutes of sleep the next morning.
There’s an element of adventure I’m really looking forward to, also. Maybe I’ll take 6-months of guitar lessons, or do an EP of just instrumental stuff, or finally make that trek down to Central Ave. and get that tattoo. Not sure how our search for a new church home will come in to play, but I also feel like it’s time to get back involved with music ministry. Making this transition won’t be easy, and I need to be patient, but I’ve done it before. I used to have one of those 5-gallon water jugs from a dispenser for spare change in an apartment years ago. I was always amazed when I’d tally up a half-full jug. Long as I keep dumping effort into my songs and music like spare change into that jug, I should have plenty to show for it quarter by quarter in 2010.