Maybe people know their death is impending because of my theory. Maybe you feel the juxtaposition of wisdom and death. You have aha moments throughout a lifetime. But that doesn’t feel like the final deep understanding. Perhaps you have a choice each time one of those aha moments comes along. You can heed it, and change your evil ways, or not. If you end up not, you are exactly one step closer to your ultimate demise. Maybe your lifespan is directly proportionate to this heeding. Maybe it’s only the lucky ones who gain the wisdom to know why they’re dying. Genesis wrote a song about the quest to live forever. There’s a lot that goes into longevity. Right? Or so I’ve heard.
So how do you heed the call? Is it a question of the appropriateness of a reaction? Don’t either overreact or underreact. What’s wrong with overreacting? Maybe either of those is somehow too superficial. You have to react exactly the right amount. You have to ingest those epiphanies. Eat them. Taste them. Swish them.
Maybe that’s why I feel I’m closer to being a true interpreter of the repertoire. I have eaten enough moments of understanding in my life that it has built up. I was even telling Josh about an interpretive concept that surprised myself with its degree of Starkerian wisdom. It was about building Bach movements architecturally. You are working to get from point A to point G, I said. You need to seek all the distinct points in between.
It was nice to have this source of wisdom inside me, that I also knew how to impart. But is that a sign that death is getting that much closer? Am I supposed to fear death? Or not. Is it better to fear it? I don’t know how deep my fear goes. If it is coincidental with wisdom, is it really such a bad thing? Is it perhaps the beginning of something better, something new, something different?
I used to think I could remember the time before I was born. There was a time. I wonder if that memory has spared me from some of a fear of death. But logic dictates that having an underdeveloped fear of death means you will act more rashly and impulsively. More recklessly. More fearlessly. Do I?
Category Archives: everyday observations
mortals
I did have a theory. It is that life is like the end of One Hundred Years Of Solitude. If you’re lucky, that is. You have all of your peccadillos. You have your weaknesses that you’re trying really hard to overcome throughout your life. One of the reasons for this is to extend your life. Because life is short, as it is.
But, it takes you the entirety of your life to get to the point where you seem to have resolved your peccadillos. So, actually, on the last day or hour of your life, you finally know how to live peacefully without your vices. Without your extraneous peccadillos. But, isn’t it ironic, as Alanis would say. It’s too damn late!! But, as a matter of fact, it’s perfect. We’re perhaps not supposed to live our lives without our vices. We can and should seek to balance ourselves out over time, but it’s not meant to end counterbalanced. Only Buddhists, perhaps, can make it past that mid point. They know that life is basically fucked up. Life is suffering. They strive to not live as a mere mortal again. They strive to rise above.
I think Christopher Hitchens strived to rise above. He sought prophet-like heights. He was not satisfied with the normal, typical daily grind of status quo life philosophies. He saw something greater for the world and for himself. He has helped me greatly. I would be fortunate to emulate him, I suppose.
blech
My daily constitutional. Accompanied by beautiful music, no less. It’s nice being trapped in this body and brain. All alone, trapped. That’s why God is such a trap. I don’t need to pretend I’m not alone in here. Why muddy it up? Things are already such trouble in here. You see, here? I’m trying to free myself up with this blog. I’m trying to express the inexpressible. The difficult-to-express.
Is breathing a way to express things? Can I substitute anything? But why? I can just sit here and write until the day I die. That was why I implemented this forum in the first place. A different sort of place to exist. I don’t remember exactly, but I think it was my own idea. Ha.
Don’t hover. Trust. You have to trust. He knows what he’s doing. He’s himself. There’s nothing inherently wrong with youth. Trust. Breathe. Be a yogi. Maybe yogis exist in this place, this blog place. Is that why Z writes so copiously? Does she get the same release out of it? Is being a child better than being an adult? Maybe it depends on the circumstance. But what if you put the circumstance aside? Aren’t there supposed to be advantages to being an adult? Andrew once told me he didn’t subscribe to a great deal of adulthood. Maybe the idea is that adults and children are supposed to help each other as they go. Children maybe don’t have to do anything specific to help adults, just be their cute, vivacious selves. Adults on the other hand do have to wake up from their adultish mindset and take a chance on their child companions.
I don’t know if I want others to see this. It’s not exactly for human eyes. It’s for the ether. Humans may eavesdrop on it if they like. Is that like my concerto performance? People eavesdropped, but weren’t the main focus of it. If you don’t perform for people, you’re better off, less self conscious and self serving. I shouldn’t feel guilty for writing here.
NY String
I’m really disappointed at how far I’ve strayed from my childhood self. How is it I’m just discovering him now? What a circuitous route I’ve taken to this starting place…!!! Very frustrating indeed, to think about the heartache and solitude and waste. Is this an inevitable route, the way life just works? I wonder what has brought me back to this point, at least partially. Can I credit Haydn? He was a magician, no doubt. Is that why Mr. Schneider always programmed him? Every single year. Do they still do that? Does Mr. Laredo see things in that light?
lungly
It’s all hidden there. In my childhood. I am nothing without it. Nothing. My current 47 year old self doesn’t exist without it. If I tried to learn the cello, to learn the Haydn, now, without all of my early experiences, imaginings and playfulness, what would there be? I think perhaps you can see it all around, in adults who missed out, who had no creative outlets. I use this blog as a creative outlet. I even used psychotherapy that way, I’d say.
Anyway, I can talk all I want about cello technique, about preparation, about adult understanding, but the heart of my passion and interpretive musings bloomed in my childhood. I am nothing without it.
Cod
I really like your piece, buddy. It’s got a good bouncy swing, good energy, and nice shaping. It’s fun hearing you flesh out the harmonization. I saw that you started taking yourself a little bit seriously today at the lesson, too. You were aware of something that’s there, inside. I’m very proud of you. I’m one lucky dad.
You’re also loads of fun for your cousins, for your bro, for mom. You are one of a kind. That’s the only way I’d have it.
just
One of my great wishes in life is to wake up each morning feeling great. Not sore. Not groggy. Not bloated. Not exhausted. Feeling lithe, limber, refreshed. Alive. Lively.
I will make this a reality.
I basically want to feel the way I do when I am going to sleep.
peopled
I would be okay continuing on the rest of my life with this mystery hanging over my head. But what about my sons? I should find some sort of resolution for their sakes. They may very well need to know the truth. It’s funny. I do want to know for myself. But it doesn’t really drive me to the finish line. It’s those around me that makes it real. Sometimes I worry about what would happen if I was the last or only man left on Earth. What would I do with myself if I only had myself to be concerned with? I pretty much have a crappy track record when left to my own devices. It improves drastically when there are other people involved.
marvin
Death. Ha ha. I never knew I was obsessed with it. Since when? Since forever. It seems so obvious now. And there’s a fine line between life and death. Like with food. You eat to survive, but you overeat to commit a slow suicide. They seem so extreme, but actually it’s a razor thin line. Anyone who toys with the idea of death sees parallels all the time. You’re always almost dead. I don’t know if it’s as much morbid as it is steeped in pathos. Another fine line. I wish I could say they weren’t everywhere. I also think they are very Buddhist. If the middle way weren’t so elusive, we’d all have found it by now.
Jackpot
Sitting with the complexity of your inner thoughts and firings. Observing your environment from the perspective of a mammal, a human being without philosophical or religious preconceptions. Resting in the wherewithal of having weeded out my brainwashing, of being able to simply trust my inherent, natural experience as a fortunate biological creature.
I don’t have to either impose my dogmas on others or on top of my own environmental observations. I can listen with a clear conscience. I don’t have to be phased by the ups and downs and machinations of my friends and family. I don’t have to live in constant fear that I can’t simply trust my natural experience.
I am fortunate to be here, to be a human, to be a mammal. I don’t have to take it further than that. Everyone has that in common, by the way. I have made a sufficient effort to weed out the other extraneous nonsense that clouds the inherent human experience. It took. Somehow it took. That also includes my sessions with Christopher. Taking that magnifying glass to my soul helped with that extraneous crap. Christopher helped hold the magnifying glass and describe what we uncovered in simple, intuitively positive terms. Now I’m out from under the magnifier and have a clearer way of proceeding in the world. He helped me develop a philosophy that I can live with. It just so happens to be fairly devoid of preconceived magical machinations. It allows me to be a fairly unfettered observer of the world. That has been one of my long term goals, I guess. I never swallowed the opinionated dogmas fed to me to much degree. I don’t really see how science can be easily pigeonholed as a put-upon dogma. It seems to me to be a simple response to our five (or more) senses. We use these senses to observe. I am no scientist. But I do need to feed my intellect one way or another. Science does that without striving to invent fairy tales or lie to me. I can rest as well as be stimulated in the extraordinary observable world.
I wouldn’t claim that I am perfect. However I feel hope in my newfound ability not to forever cloud my experience in dogma and doubts. I can tell I have an improved ability to learn and adjust to the world.
It’s the gift of life. The gift of humanness. The gift of existence. Nothing more. Nothing less.