Tag Archives: random thoughts

Leftovers

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

Wearier

There’s an issue of scope. It runs from the very small to the very large. Am I supposed to focus on the moment as it is happening or see the grand scheme leading up to and coming away from the now? And where should I start and end from? I am finding my physical challenges particularly apparent right now. In what context can I place fatigue? In the moment I strive to avoid it. But as my schedule compounds and it becomes unavoidable, I see it can be an ally in enriching the music-making. It is like an athlete who reaches his peak after a good amount of time placing his body under stress. There is an arc created, but it is difficult to account for it in the present moment.

originally published on 11/29/07

Blab

If I’m not mistaken, I am afraid of perfection, or at least the attempt at it. I know some people who are afraid of emotional expression. I seem to have an irrational fear of accurate expression. It feels like my introverted version of rebellion, actually. Someone recently asked me how I rebelled as an adolescent, and I said I didn’t really. But I suppose if there’s one primary way I undermined the status quo of my life, it was laziness. I have since discovered that discipline is a choice, not just a personality trait.
One aspect of discipline is self-observation. That is how I noticed that I quite specifically move and think in ways that throw off my accuracy. So then I asked myself, are these behaviors serving any positive function? And if not, what exactly are they doing there? That’s how I arrived at the sensation of phobia. A wall. A hot spot in my psyche.

Even the non sequitur titles of these blogs could be my way of throwing or including a wrench in the consistency of the format.

originally published on 1/10/08

Snipets

Everything becomes a cliche. Everything already is a cliche. Would you rather be a self-aware cliche or an oblivious one?
I refuse to value myself, even just enough for basic tending to my needs. I have severe confidence, self-love issues. So isn’t it safe to say I would be hypocritical to accuse someone else of a more harmful version of the same thing? At least in anything other than a compassionate way?

I seem to have a terrible time with honesty. It eludes me when I long for it. I spend much of my time dancing around the truth. Or else I am ridiculously blunt. It’s one extreme or another. I suspect I was taught this propensity.

Interesting that lying was the one sin in our house that merited punishment. Is that to say that honesty could be forced into you? Maybe lying was an attempt at a different sort of truth-telling. One that tended to be overlooked or squelched.

I am left with a great deal of confusion regarding how to negotiate honesty in my life. Where does it come from, within or without? How do you know if you’re lying or being secretive? Stretching the truth might be between the two. Or exaggerating or filtering out elements of the total picture. It’s one thing to have some level of privacy, and another to shun truths from yourself. To suppress your own knowledge and experience from yourself doesn’t seem to help anyone. Least of all myself.

originally published on 3/23/08

Pinwheel

I’m stuck. I’m fulfilling a role set by someone else. My actions are dictated by another. Societal parameters. And I feel alone. Alone and stuck. The one I can talk to is never in my present. Only past and future. Only imaginary. Maybe that’s not true. I do open up to people in the present. But it’s hard to recall because I close myself off just as quickly. I don’t sustain the openness. So they are fleeting moments. Do they add up to something? Maybe. I think they do accumulate. But they never seem to add up to what I am hoping and yearning for. Is this a philosophical, emotional, or psychological issue? Are they different? Is my problem dietary, disciplinary, auditory, or what?
If it’s a beautiful day outside, should I be happy? (philosophy) Should I expect happiness to come my way? (since it has in the past, for however fleeting a time) Can I provide happiness for myself? Or do I need assistance? Assistants? Am I supposed to know the answer to any of these questions, or just ask them? Does not knowing the answer condemn me to some sort of sorrowful existence? Maybe existence isn’t so static as finding the answers and then being contented. It’s the searching which is so important. So don’t stop! Don’t be ashamed to be continually inquisitive.

originally published on 4/28/08

Bank on it

How many different levels do I have to operate on? Is it possible to address different facets of cello and life without each one conflicting against the other? Can’t I focus on emotionality without technique butting in? Or concentrate on relaxing without sound quality making forays? Or legato continuity without first finger joint pain? Do I need to make a list of everything in hierarchical order? What about my daily routine and activities? Same deal? I wish I didn’t have to micromanage myself. Haven’t I done that before, with little staying power?
Am I perhaps existing in a pendulumic world? Are there varying sizes of pendulums which must be kept track of? How is it I don’t find others who are on the same nuisance-ridden journey as me? Where are all the other pendulum swingers? I’ve been asking around lately, and I do get some minimal acknowledgment of the issue, but it appears not to interfere with others’ lives like mine.

originally published on 5/3/08

Bye-ing

I am looking for that buzz. I am searching for those endorphins. One idea is that they are there, inside me. I need not expend all of my energy in a quest for their source. It is right in front of my eyes, really.
I self-medicate. In all sorts of ways. But in my efforts I am masking the natural remedy which is here. I think I am a peaceful man, but instead I am fighting any truths which I am privy to. I am a ludicrous warrior. How boring. No wonder I am so often bored. Fight, fight, fight. How monotonous.

originally published on 6/22/08

Out

I definitely have an odd relationship with perfection. I jut back and forth between seeing it everywhere and seeing it nowhere. Between not caring about having it and accepting nothing less. Very jarring. It seems to stem from the fact that I still see Mom and Dad and probably my siblings, too, as the perfect people that no one is.
I never outgrew the idea that love is always about feeling unconditionally happy and nurtured. I cannot see the good for the good and the bad for the bad.

Am I just a naive bastard? A naive boy? As I’ve noted, I remember feeling unconditional love in our household, as well as other relatives’ households. I keep my eye open to that sentiment to this day. Is it a feeling which is not appropriate for equal relationships? Equal partnerships? Am I taking it a bit too far?

So I am perpetually comparing this to that. But I don’t realize what I am doing. So there is no way to address it. But it undermines everything. And I mean everything. Either directly or by means of avoidance.

If I do something other than play the cello, I am questioning the wisdom of one of my parents. Unbelievable. So not only do I love them unconditionally, but I also fear them unconditionally. There is the disturbing aspect to this.

originally published on 6/24/08

Barnyard Blues

All or nothing. Yesterday’s attempt to curb the use of balms on my soul was fruitless. I balmed away. So the next question is, am I any less compulsive than in the past? It is exceedingly hard for me to determine that. I would love to take others’ word on it, but there is a deeper place that their words cannot reach.
My friend recommended meditation. I was just thinking of what to do if I’ve excluded all restless, wasteful activity, and I immediately thought of meditation. Perhaps I can explore that today. The other way of looking at it is to try to do less of any given thing. To be less overblown in my actions and passions. That is also akin to a non-exaggerated approach; simple, in the moment, one thing at a time, which I can only imagine becomes like meditation. Maybe it’s very Western of me, but I may be best at handling activities meditatively, rather than the true act of meditation.

So the risk of all this is still there: feeling my very own brand of pain. And the converse risk: feeling pleasure that I am direly aware can lead rapidly to pain. I guess that addresses the question, what’s the point of recalling happy memories: you are in truth recalling a time of openness and trustedness, which left you equally open to joy and sorrow, to paraphrase Casals. It was the time in life where you’re largely accumulating experience from the world. Later you must process those experiences and incorporate them carefully, having accumulated enough.

I noticed that I sure talk a good talk. But when it comes down to walking the walk, I’m sorely devoid. What I’d like to be able to do is have a better sense of any progress I may be making. It doesn’t seem to be enough simply to make the progress; you need to occasionally rest on your laurels. To take more of a bird’s-eye view at yourself, so you can actually tell whether change has taken place. Looking at things so myopically is generally quite discouraging. But it does make you good at analysis. Perhaps a good teacher? Not that I only deal with minutia in my teaching, but it is good to have it as an element.

originally published on 6/26/08

Biped

I think the things I enjoy the most (without simultaneously making me feel like crap about myself) are things I do out of choice. As the catch word of the day puts it: interactively. What I was wondering was to what degree one can choose one’s actions? Is 100% even within the realm of possibility? If you get a good 40% or so going, that’s fairly good odds already, right?
When I say 100%, I mean that you are getting no assistance whatsoever from outside yourself, and you may even be getting resistance. But you nevertheless make your chosen move. It seems there is always some level of give and take coming from your environment, directing you and convincing you and nudging you towards different decisions. They come from both the past and the present, the here and the elsewhere, the corporeal and the spiritual.

Much of my difficulty in life stems from the low percentages I am getting. I have a very hard time sticking up for myself. There are special situations where I have higher percentages, but I can’t seem to instill that gutsiness in other arenas.

Thinking in terms of gradation like this is a comfort for me. Normally I get stuck in an all or nothing perception. This will help me feel I can work little by little.

originally published on 6/28/08