Sunday, April 16, 2017

Relationships in Suspended Animation

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I have been reading about intimacy and relationships in the Dalai Lama's "Art of Happiness." In the work the Dalai Lama asserts that compassion is the primary underpinning of all human relationships. That compassion forms the gentle and understanding foundation that supports all positive interactions. In many ways it is the "walk a mile in my shoes," "see the need in the other's life" perspective. As the primary tenet of Distilled Harmony - Foster Harmony - is essentially the same idea, I read along in a "right on!" frame of mind.

The chapter focused primarily on how one should bring a compassionate and open attitude to new or existing relationships. Lovely insights there that I need to mull over a bit more. I’m afraid that may result in some "point the finger at thyself” moments. But I'll put that off for another day.

However, the reading got me thinking about a rather unique set of compassionate relationships that play unique but vital roles in my life. They are what I think of as "relationships in suspended animation" or RSAs.

Back in 1975 Paul Simon wrote a song called "Some Folks Lives Roll Easy." Part of the lyric goes like this:

And here I am, Lord
I'm knocking at your place of business
I know I ain't got no business here
But you said if I ever got so low
I was busted,
You could be trusted

RSAs are the those unique and precious relationships where we can go “knocking" when we are "so low we are busted," even if we "ain't got no business" there.

They are not simply old relationships. We were watching an Midsomer Murders" rerun last night in which the protagonist's daughter engineers a reunion of her "dearest school mates," whom she has not seen for a decade. Not positive how that scans out in the US school system - but these folks seemed to be early 20s. Well, I hope it was storyline considerations that mandated the conclusions, but the reunion was a total disaster in the Midsomer tradition of multiple murders.

RSAs are quite different. We may still be in touch with these suspended animation connections, especially in these days of casual, almost unavoidable, social media connections. We may see their partners, kids, cats and dogs. We may respond with a desultory thumbs up, a like, or a cleverly pre-designed emoticon. Very 21st century. Very McLuhan hot media. Those kinds of interactions do not warrant hitting the "suspended animation" reset button. Remember the rest of Simon's lyric: "You said if I ever got so low I was  busted, you could be trusted." 

Usually we reach out to our RSAs after exploring a pressing issue with our most valued, but everyday, vital sounding boards - spouse, partner, valued colleague, BFF, etc.  Somewhat in contrast to Simon's lyric, I would assert that the issues that prompt us to reach out to our RSAs, need not be driven only by the "so low I was busted" times, they can also be just the opposite - seeking affirmation in a great new opportunity or choice. The important part of the lyric is "you could be trusted." The important aspects are significance and trust. We reach out to our RSAs when we really want additional trusted advice on some important issue in our lives. But we definitely do NOT want to crowd source it to Facebook or whatever bot is crawling our webpages.

So we set aside our lingering fears of rejection and remember that this was, and hopefully still is, a person "who could be trusted." And we begin the search for email addresses, physical address, phone numbers, etc., that will allow us to start the process of "knocking at their place of business."

There will be anxiety associated with waiting to see how, or even if, someone answers the knock. But I truly believe that most often the response will be worth the risk. And the Dalai Lama agrees. Oh, yes, the Dalai Lama and I very, very close .  .  .  .  . Or at least I think we might be, were I to ever actually meet him .  .  .  :-)

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Thursday, April 13, 2017

Future Tense

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Worrying about the future 
Makes it quite difficult  
To be happy today.  
That is not to say  
We should not have dreams. 
But too often  
Our slavish pursuit of dreams  
Turns them into nightmares.  
It is difficult to smell the roses  
If we spend our hours in the garden  
Spreading manure and  
Dusting to kill the aphids. 

We must learn to say: 
Today is sufficient. 
This I can appreciate.  
I do not need  
A chorus of angels to sing for me.  
A single mourning dove will suffice.  
I do not need  
The applause of the masses.  
The smile on the face of a friend  
Is affirmation enough. 
I do not need 
To turn the world  
To my way of thinking. 
Understanding my own path 
To peacefulness will do.  
And all this fits comfortably  
Within the soft blanket  
Of today. 
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Sunday, April 2, 2017

Schrag Porch: More Selected Oldies

Schrag Porch: Still around 2001, maybe ‘02

Preference Tracking

Contextual information, a la Amazon et al, is a problematic "product." We now allow software engineers to define the links in our personal conceptual space. Imagine sending a poem to your lover using e-mail. The poem appears on her screen surrounded by messages that begin: If you love this man, then you might also enjoy these other guys. . . ."

[A 2017 Update – regulations that would have limited the amount and kinds of personal information various online entities could gather and sell have just been struck down by The White House.  “Everything old is new again .  .  . “]

The “Good” Heartbreak in Love Songs

The heartbreak in love songs is not my heartbreak, and therein lies their beauty. When Eva Cassidy sings "Along the winter shore, all your fickle friends are leaving. But then you know that it was time for them to go," there is a purity of loss that just "hurts so good." 

Certainly loss is loss and empty can be incredibly painful; yet out the other side of loss is a positive empty, because only that which is empty can be filled again. The refilling of a heart made deeper and emptier by loss is just about as close as we can get to grace/nirvana/heaven/peace - chose your own inadequate word. So love songs remind us that the beauty of heartbreak is the promise of the refilling that will follow loss.

The Voice as an Instrument

Today  on  my  walk,  listened  to  Elvis: The  Number  One Hits.  A couple  of things occurred to me. First, the man had a simply incredible voice - range, power, fabulous control. Not obvious on songs like "Hound Dog," but on works like "Don't" and "It's Now or Never," the range is operatic. 

Parallel thoughts: The voice is an instrument - not terribly profound, I realize, but the way in which that particular instrument is employed in a work makes important differences. Instrumental works have no vocals so the work is instrumentally structured and communicated. Elvis, Bocelli, Streisand, and Sinatra all foreground the voice as the dominant instrument, hence the lyric is also dominant. 

Much contemporary music seems unable to decide between the need for loud instruments or dominant vocals. Unfortunately the result is often a discordant competition between the two. "Vocalists" hollering over loud instruments. A bit of linguistic evidence: bands have been "bands" both before MTV and after MTV. But before MTV we used to identify the individual members as either musicians or vocalists. After MTV it became quite common to refer to mainstream band members as "performers." Neither musician nor vocalist, they "act" in music videos or choreographed concerts.

[Another 2017 update, I have rediscovered John Denver’s voice. OK, some of the lyrics do lean toward trite, but listen to the voice. Headphones. Just lovely.]