Bleat

I believe I am on the brink, the precipice. This seems to explain a lot of the things that are going on in my head, things which are very hard to explain to anybody else. It is very easy for me to be knocked off any kind of balance point that I may have found. Many things can do it. A dare is sometimes the culprit. I tell myself that I am feeling good and unperturbed, and then I ask myself how this may be undermined. I dare myself. Recently I realized that it probably shouldn’t be that easy to topple my peace of mind.

I have been on the edge like that for a long time. I have also ironically thought that I have an unusually strong sense of stability. Maybe it is simply an outcome of all the effort I am making to be stable and self-aware. I feel that deeper down I am truly on the edge. I expend a lot of energy concocting a facade to stabilize this. I would love to be able to address this directly, instead.

originally published on 8/21/07

The Limit

Wow. What is it about home that sucks it out of me? What residual crap am I dealing with that has nothing whatsoever to do with my present life? Because I really am at a loss to discover what could be the instigator of my numbness. As soon as I got off the plane in Ft Myers I felt it beginning. By the time I got home I was ready to collapse into my useless routine. There is nothing remotely cruddy enough about my life here that would explain this reaction.

In fact, I did some fantastic reading, writing and soul-searching on the plane ride from Detroit. You wanna see some? But wait, before I do that, let me just say that my growth and emergence from whom I have been to whom I could be is inevitably going to be slow and incremental. So I would be wise to cut myself a little slack. Okay, here’s the quotation:

Wisdom is seemingly a cure for what I frequently consider neuroses. The seeking of wisdom. The imparting of it. Wisdom may not be a static state of being. It must find expression. I like to be static, to find defining characteristics of myself, others, or situations, and label them or pinpoint them. But what if it is in the striving for this clarification that truth and beauty lie? Not to mention serenity and open-endedness? It feels like a paradox: motion, generosity of spirit, and active inquiry may be the pathway to inner calmness and balance. Maybe it is akin to yin and yang – one without the other is a spiral downward. Passion and reason, as Gibran says. He continuously attributes his higher sense of wisdom to observing the menial day-to-day lives of the villagers of Orphalese (The Prophet). Give and take. A giver needs a receiver and vice versa. What use is wisdom without confusion, and how can the confused strive towards anything without learned guidance?

I guess one of the sources of my neurotic behavior is my need to find equality and fairness in the world. But maybe that is a flawed aspiration in the first place. That would lead to a stasis and eventual deterioration. For how does one determine the superior philosophy to use as the benchmark for a good life? Whatever and whoever are eliminated will end up being squashed, discounting any equality.

originally published on 12/8/07

Red Rug

So after I got over being sick this last time, I had some new insights on the cello. It might have something to do with the stubbornness thing, which by the way has pretty much returned. I am finally starting to see the advantage of keeping my left shoulder about as relaxed as my right, or at least as low. It’s one of those new options I’m giving myself – broadening my horizons. All I can say is that I hope this isn’t a passing faze. Impermanence is a bitch.

I am trying to explain something more, though. In quick succession after the shoulder business, I deduced that 1) there are muscles that are useful to engage versus those that impede the goings-on; 2) there are muscles that are seemingly unrelated to the goings-on which play an invaluable role; and 3) I know quite well what I am doing, so I need to stop trying so hard because it only hinders the goings-on. Numbers 2 and 3 kind of take care of number 1 by default, so number 1 becomes an intellectual puzzle mostly rather than something actively applicable.

originally published on 1/6/08

4 Pronged

Rationalizing. We are all masters. Maybe that’s more what distinguishes homo sapiens than any of those other erudite qualities like opposable thumbs or tool-mastery. I see how deep it goes when I observe it on the surface. Nobody likes to think they are rationalizing. But isn’t it dangerous to assume that your motives are pure just because you are only minimally aware of who you are and why you make your choices? Ignorance is some funky ground to stand on.

If you talk about the many layers of a person, you have to include the rich tapestry of rationalizing. I find the best way to behave purely is to stop fighting myself. Don’t fear the reaper. Be aware when you use thin excuses for your lamer actions. Each time you wake up to one level of mindset, you ready yourself to bloom into the next. It will come when it comes.

originally published on 1/25/08

Malnourish

There is a problem with having a strong constitution. It’s a double-edged sword. While you’re only minimally affected by bad things that happen to you or that you inflict upon yourself, you have great difficulty developing strategies to encourage healthy behavior. It’s hard to say who ends up better off: the weaker among us who learn quickly how to live correctly, but eventually cannot handle what life throws at them; or the stronger ones who can withstand severe abuse, but never end up learning how to take care of themselves, thereby succumbing to their own foibles.

Another angle: pacing. Constitutional pacing. How quickly each person’s body succumbs to harmful intrusion, both in the short and the long term. That is probably more apropos than simple blanket strength. If your pacing is gradual, then you must be particularly reliant on your wits to make your way through the maze of temptations. You’re getting very little feedback from your senses or internal nervous system. If you navigate erroneously, you’ll catch it in the ass later on. Or in the arm. Or the tooth. Or in that tendon descending from the kneecap. These toxins will build up, and you’ll be out for the count for a good while.
But the quick-paced among us are getting feedback almost constantly. And while it isn’t pleasant, it’s a good chauffeur to lead us in healthy directions.

originally published on 2/2/08

Lancet

I’m funny. I don’t think things affect me. Ha! Just ’cause I don’t keel over with a seizure or aneurysm has nothing to do with whether I have escaped scot-free from an abuse, either self or other-inflicted. Maybe I’m not the most sensitively created being in the universe. But each small act I engage in has at least an equal repercussion on who and what I am in the ensuing hours and days. I’m glad I googled scot-free, because that’s precisely not how I end up after any sort of indiscretion.

Another wonderful truth is that I cannot separate different parts of myself from eachother. I am one organism, and each part is linked to the rest. I guess the question becomes, to what degree are these things linked? Well, that depends how deep you look.

originally published on 2/3/08

Baby Brain

I’d just like to know why nobody ever explained to me about the correlation between total looseness and total fitness. Why have I been wasting all my life fooling around with the stuff in between? I need some direction occasionally, like everybody else.

The incredible thing I’ve observed is that those two elements are quite compatible. It reminds me of Tamino, a cat I befriended, who was simultaneously completely at rest and loose, and like a springboard ready to pop. We used to call him the perfect athlete. He was like a fluid – ever modulating between the differing physical and energetic states of being.

originally published on 2/21/08

Portioned

The last thing I want to do is write about truthful things. I will expend all my energy in attempts to avoid introspection. I will go through every emotion, shop in every store, practice every exercise, water every plant. I will eat every peanut, watch every show, drink every smoothie, shoot every basket.

I am pacing myself, you say. Maybe. I am learning through all these external activities and relationships, you claim. Could be. Then why does it feel in my heart of hearts that I am simply running? Simply averting my eyes? I certainly get annoyed at that heart of hearts. I think I want it to leave me alone. But is that true? Isn’t it my only salvation? I am a giant jerk to it. If I were see-through, translucent, what would be visible on the inside? Some red, burning shapes? A community of characters in chaos? The truth would become evident.

originally published on 4/18/08

Pan fried

I see, I see! No extraneous movements! No squirming, no fudging, no second-guessing! That’s how I will beat the beast of left arm exhaustion. It’s been there all along. I’m sure Starker harped on it repeatedly, in me and others. But now I’m ready to use it.

I see now that any moments of epiphany always involved this approach. It’s kind of like the middle way. I had to test the waters of all the edges in order to wean myself down to the simplest point of motion.

originally published on 4/25/08

Bender

I seem to vacillate between a mechanical and an emotional approach to natural cello technique and performance. It is only those rare moments that I can muster both at the same time.

If I make fresh headway in my emotional and personal development, I often find that I can use those insights to assist my musical expression. Music is not all that different than life, although applying that maxim is easier said than done.

I have recently noticed that I tend to skim the surface of my relationships, mistaking fleeting euphoria for true joy. So I reasoned that I am probably doing the same thing with my music-making. When I then tried to open myself up to riskier, more global sentiments, I felt more at one and at peace in my interpreting. It’s like it resonated inside me more, which reminds me of something Sebok loved to talk about. The path to wisdom is rarely found in a straight line.

originally published on 6/17/08