hypotheses and philosophies

Bander

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I’m still stuck on the prostrations I put myself through unnecessarily. Why can’t I avert the hoops, mind games and overstraining and get right to the well-balanced enlightenment? I have a theory about that. (I know someone who would groan at those words.) Is it possible that somewhere inside I believe that the best way to enjoy the high is to sink into the depths of despair beforehand? Is that my perfect setup? You see, if I skip that particular setup, it’s just possible that I won’t even know when I’ve hit the moment of elation.

That would also explain why an identical situation feels so different on different occasions. It’s the context, or what preceded it. This seems to go along nicely with the Buddhist philosophy I’ve been reading up on. Nothing is real; nothing is as it seems to be; all is impermanent in this life. The high that I think I am feeling is only thus by contrast to the low. The goal should be to bypass all of these swings up or down, and keep your eye on altruistic aspirations for all sentient beings. I’d like that.

originally published on 3/25/09

hypotheses and philosophies

Junction

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The Buddhist stuff is amazing because I keep finding it proven in my daily activities and experience; I have to work very little to convince myself of its veracity. I also like a philosophy that has its roots in the truth of everyday life rather than seemingly arbitrary edicts and deities. Indeed, there’s just enough of an unknowable, afterlife element to qualify it as a somewhat comforting religion instead of just a philosophy.

originally published on 3/25/09

hypotheses and philosophies

Tinder

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I think I know why I like to eat. It’s because I am alive. Hunger affirms aliveness. That’s the other side of the coin of desperate, void-filling overeating. It is the irrepressible joy of affirmation (or affirmation of joy), although taken a bit too far sometimes.

The desperation also comes in the form of holding on to that happy feeling for dear life. Or trying to multiply it, intensify it. I think I do that in my music, too. I push my joyfulness or sorrow or any edgy expression to its brink. And I guess it gets me into trouble there too, physically and also interpretively.

I eat overexuberantly because I am afraid the day will come when I will not feel that exuberance about living, and somehow stuffing my face will either make up for that lack later on, or delay its onset. The day may come when I do not have the inclination to eat. I will not have that absolutely wondrous feeling associated with hunger and oral fixation. So what I have to remind myself of is that I can simply enjoy the present association of hunger, eating and joie de vivre without fear of the future, or sadness over what is not delightful in my life. Maybe it’s another way of saying, simply be pleased to be alive!

On another topic, I noticed tonight that the level I must attain of muscular rest needs to be greater than the average person’s. I have to rest as vigorously as I work. This refers specifically to cello-playing muscles. It could also apply to anyone’s focal points of physical exertion.

originally published on 7/5/09

hypotheses and philosophies

Illbegotten

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Geographical fix. It’s fairly ridiculous to think of how much of my life depends on geography. Of course I’m not exclusively talking about my exterior life. My inner moods and reactions are deceptively connected to my surroundings and my proximity to the people who fill up my past and present (and future, even if only in fantasies). It’s also hard to keep track of the morphing that takes place when I travel. Sometimes I travel to visit one person, or to distance myself from another, but it’s easy to overshoot your target and end up too close or too far away from the persons in question.

I can also be duped (upended) when I travel for business or tourist reasons. A particular environment or city can bring up feelings and recollections that end up affecting my dreams and bent. There’s that old cliche, no matter where you go, there you are. That’s what’s so deceptive about geographical fixes. Your intertwined souls have their own needs and reasons, regardless of surroundings.

originally published on 8/13/09

reflections within

Eel Farmer

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I got one lottery number right. Obviously someone else did much better than that, since there was a winner. But for me one correct number is quite good. I’m sure they will enjoy their 26 million.
I am a bit at a loss on what to write these days. I’ve got plenty of stuff I can put in my private journal. Plenty of stuff that is very specific. I obviously prefer to incorporate more general musings here in this public forum. I guess I could put down all sorts of everyday little factoids, but, at least lately, I don’t see what use that would be to anyone.

That reminds me, I was thinking about what I deem of worth even in my own hour-by-hour life. Do I have something against pleasant, non-soul-searching conversation? Ought I have that bias? Or is lighthearted banter actually valuable? I wonder. I just told some people that I prefer listening and playing music seeped in pathos. But then I also think my sorrowful undertones give the more cheery stuff I play a certain beauty, if I can get out of myself somewhat and enjoy the sunnier qualities.

But I appear to be a dark soul on many levels. I think it would be good for me to explore and express some other colors in the spectrum of life.

originally published on 5/3/07

reflections within

Reeked and Wracked

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I am definitely prone to being all or nothing. One extreme or the other. This week I find myself trying my hardest to please, to be a good boy, a perfect fellow. I don’t even know I am making perfection my goal, but I am. It is a goal wracked with risks. One of the chief ones seems to be my own shame trip when I see a flaw in my efforts. Also, I end up drawn to others of like extremeness. Maybe that explains the prior blog’s reference to idle, pleasant repartee and its seeming uselessness. Who needs a conversation when it sticks to the sane, centered ground of everyday life? This propensity to primarily engage with extremists only exacerbates the imbalance within myself, and it makes a way out harder to locate from the mire.
I do appear to be somewhat obsessed with karma, again without my knowing it. It is probably a great way to widen those extremes I so love. I seek good karma (a habit apparently ingrained in me from God knows where). For instance, I imagine if I can play Mozart beautifully, I will go to Heaven (have good karma). Then I fear that if I disobey someone I respect or care about (or am intimidated by), I will have bad karma (go to Hell, I suppose). What’s in between these two options, I ask? I can’t say. Sadly, what is in between might be the stuff which makes up a life. Is that like hearing between the notes?

These extremes of ideology, emotion or obsession which I and others run to are facades, but they certainly seem convincing in the moment. I would like to be able to differentiate between fantasy and some semblance of reality. Then I will know when I am simply taking a temporary flight of the imagination (either alone or with someone else) from which I can exit at my leisure.

originally published on 5/19/07

reflections within

Truthood

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All the permutations and complexities of relationships and feelings are simply what is real to me. I experience life on many layers. What appear to be conflicting emotions are the richness of life. If I deny that, then I am being false. It is only acting. There doesn’t seem to be much point in that. Eventually everyone’s goal is honesty, self-disclosure, isn’t it? Why delay the good stuff?

originally published on 6/13/07

reflections within

Partaken

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I have had revelations before, technically, spiritually, musically, and otherwise. How long do their effects last usually? Should I take myself seriously when I am deeply convinced of a notion? What about other people, when they are sure of something? Are they more or less trustworthy than me? Apparently it depends.
If I can stay on this path of looseness, it could be an important turning point. That is what I am thinking as I sit there experiencing the effects of this approach. It’s a strange sort of morphing that is going on. At first it feels like it’s getting worse – my arm still hurts, and I don’t even have the illusory and fleeting pleasure of expressing how the music moves me. Then, little be little, I begin to sense something letting go in my sinews and muscular fibers. I am in disbelief. It’s actually taking effect.

So, how long ought I expect this positive change to continue? Is there going to be a swerve in the road at some point? Will I lose focus? Will this technique cease to be effective as time goes on? What about all the different genre I have to perform in?, orchestral, chamber, solo, and otherwise.

These are some of the thought processes I have when I’m sitting there practicing or rehearsing, or even performing at times.

originally published on 8/4/07

reflections within

Leftovers

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All or nothing. Why is that my predilection? Don’t answer that. I was limiting it to specific issues like music and food. But in truth it has no limits, kind of like its own self. No control. It’s an illusion of control, this all or nothing.
I used to envision love and sex as all or nothing deals. And I did my trick of withholding them (specifically sex) so as not to be drowned by them, just like I mentioned last evening. Actually it wasn’t specifically sex, was it. I totally hid my deeper feelings of love and affection from myself and others, too. Such heartwarming traits. Thank G-d I am becoming slightly aware of it after all these years.

originally published on 8/12/07

reflections within

Plebeian

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I am still working on the whole mind, body, heart thing. It’s frustrating. I seem to be so utterly conditioned to cut myself off from one or more of them. But even when I make a deliberate effort to be in touch with them, I am realizing it is not enough because they are divided among themselves. They don’t function properly that way.
I guess I spend the majority of my time either actively or passively cutting myself off from myself. It is just by habit. People who don’t do this seem like aliens to me.

I believe I wouldn’t be so confused so often if I had that knack for integration. It would not only reflect on the cello.

originally published on 8/20/07