Into the Mystic

Feeling tied to the universe a bit more this day, a little more at one than usual. Why? I don't know but I do know that Into the Mystic by Van Morrison crept into my day recently and for whatever reason, maybe the season, I let the song in more. Let is wash over me, swirl around me some more. I've always loved the song as one of those easy flowing odes to whatever may need your eyes on. To me it's one of those significant songs that reaches in and touches a place you didn't know existed. I've said it before and I suspect I'll say it again, music has power in that way. The gentle melody coupled with the horns accenting and punctuating the soulful voice of the Irish rogue...yep.

I wanna rock your gypsy soul

Just like way back in the days of old

Then magnificently we will float 

Into the mystic

Getting back to the idea of music washing over me. Sipping wine with a friend recently and listening to her eclectic playlist as we took in the music in our own ways, a difference in listening was noticed. I let the music surround me, feeling the rhythm but not entirely moving to it, a strumming finger or gentle toe tap being my physical expression. Hearing the lyrics but not truly understanding them. Put another way, I see the forest despite the trees, I hear the song as a whole as opposed to being able to single out parts. It's why, I think, I am often ignorant of what songs are sometimes truly about. At least at first. I mean I know what the lyrics are I just may not know what they are saying. I often can't pick out the bass line because to my ear it's muted, intertwined with everything else going on in the song. Who knows...maybe my hearing is just screwed up somehow?

On the other side of the couch my friend was grooving to the music, hands flowing and head swaying to the rhythm. In her words the music enters her very body. She's at one with the tune, letting it control her, letting herself go completely with it. Neither one is right or wrong, just different. And I'm sure there are other ways to be as well...the important thing is that it works for you. It's like art and poetry, there is no right way to appreciate it. How the hell do any of us know what was meant by a 300 year old painting unless the artist wrote it down somewhere? But don't you see...that's the beauty of all art, it means whatever it means to each person. 

At "The Met" in New York I saw famous works of art that took your breath away and others that looked like I could paint them with a slight amount of effort. "I don't know much about art, but I know what I like" pretty much sums it up for me. I like to be surprised, I like to be moved and I like to see it all. I don't care if at first glance or first listen I'm not getting it all...they say art is timeless, so what's the rush?

All art, be it music, painting, poetry and prose, is held differently by each. 55,000 people watching U2 a few months ago and you can be sure we all didn't have the same feelings about the song Bad. It takes me to one place. And the other 54,999 people there have their own story. What matters is that we, together, were enjoying the moment while thinking out what it meant to us.

A good friend of mine is gifted in the world of digital art, she truly has a way of drawing you in with images that get you to look past the initial glance...you want to know what is going on there. Is it everyone's cup of tea? No. Of course not. To each his own right. I don't care for rap and country music. So what. An artist has taken part of their soul to show to the world and for that we can all be thankful. Giving credence to the idea that art is the highest from of hope.

That's the beauty. That's the gift. Take this quote away from the religious world for a moment...

"Grace is but glory begun and glory is but grace perfected"

To have grace you need glory, and glory is grace perfected. Art and hope are intrinsically connected, as grace and glory are, they feed off of each other, they nurture each other and they, in the end, need each other to flourish. What would life be without either? I shudder to think.

Ciao
D

Time Stand Still

Time stand still

I'm not looking back

But I want to look around me now

Time stand still

See more of the people and the places that surround me now

Freeze this moment a little bit longer

Make each sensation a little bit stronger

Experience slips away

Neil Peart celebrated a birthday the other day. If you ask me who he is I might throat punch you. OK, maybe not, actually I won't, but you should know he's the drummer and main lyricist for Rush. That woman repelling band of misfits from Toronto that I grew up on. These virtuoso's of their chosen instruments, that could make themselves sound like so much more than they really were, are for me, a musical example of something that was greater than the sum of their parts. They each played their instruments as well as anyone had before, together they simply were legendary in their mastery.

I read an interview in which Neil listed his ten favourite songs from Rush and I was surprised to find that he listed Time Stand Still as one of those. Not a prototypical Rush song, actually as far from it that you could find...there's a female guest vocalist on it. To know Rush is to know that's not normal for them. In the interview he was saying that the song was somewhat autobiographical in his desire to essentially stop and smell the roses more and he said this:

I get frustrated when people say where did the time go. You just weren’t paying attention. 

A day is a day, a month is a month, a year is a year.

As time marches on I hear that sentiment a lot, hell, I've had that sentiment. Time seems to fly by quicker the older we get even though we know that a day is a day is a day. I suppose we could chalk it up to the fact that we are simply busy in our lives and everything seems to be moving at warp speed. The trees become stands and then forests and we lose site of individual trees in the blur of life going by...unless we manage to stop from time to time to see those trees.

The imagery and mystery around the passage of time is, of course, not a new one. It's been happening since the beginning of time after all, I think maybe what is different for the world at large is that everything is now, quite literally, at our fingertips. In a world as interconnected as we occupy now, we have all seen the same cat videos and Drumph memes the instant they hit the web. Obviously it wasn't always like that. When man first flew at Kitty Hawk it took weeks for the word to get around the world. When Armstrong walked on the moon it was a shared event that brought generations together in front of the black and white to witness history as it unfolded. When the Mars rover landed we could simply glance down at our phones to see what had just transpired and get back to whatever it was we were doing. The gravitas of the moment lost to expediency and the next thing that captures our attention.

Summer's going fast, nights growing colder

Children growing up, old friends growing older

Freeze this moment a little bit longer

Make each sensation a little bit stronger

Experience slips away

Experience slips away...

The innocence slips away

Personally I want to do better at being in the moment as much as possible...I want to experience all that life has to offer and as Neil had said,  to "know even better, to value the passing of time and the richness of experience.” It's interesting to me that I care less and less for the "stuff" in life and want to see and do more stuff. As some of you know personally, that direct experience I have with someone is much more important to me than having a bigger TV or cushions on my sofa. 

We can't stop time anymore than we can push on the ocean, all we can do is enjoy what we are doing with the time we have been given. Look around a little bit longer, make the sensation a little stronger.

Ciao

D

Choices

I would imagine that it goes without saying that alcohol and good decisions aren't often used in the same sentence in a positive way. This statement, as hard as it may be to believe, is even more so true when applied to me when I was young and stupid. As opposed to now, just older and stupid. It is no secret that for about three years in high school that I was a bit of a "Fun Bobby" kind of guy along with my mates in the gang known as ROOI. Don't read anything into it other than having a good time, which is what we were supposed to do at that time of our lives. And don't be a buzz kill if you want to talk about the why? Because we did. Personally, I wasn't running from anything, deadening any pain or escaping reality. Life was and is good. At best I was augmenting my normal jovial self. Remember the word tapestry....no regrets

And since I am still alive to talk about it I guess things turned out just fine. I am a well adjusted somewhat normally functioning member of society. Take that statement for what it's worth by the way. What I also have are some funny stories that fall into the "why is he still alive" category. Like the shagging on the bumper of a speeding car and taking short cuts at the top of buildings stories. Sometimes alcohol has nothing to do with the stupid choices I have made, but because I am still here I get to talk about it. Along with my naivete it's part of my charm...right?

So, many moons ago my friends and I found ourselves at a very well to do house somewhere in suburban Etobicoke. What were we doing there? The usual, having a good time. I honestly don't know whose house it was, whose party it was or even how we got there. There is about 45 minutes, by my watch, that I do recall. For instance, I do know that there was a pool, which figures prominently in this story. I do know that we weren't relegated to the furnace room as was the usual price of admission. I also know that we drank a lot. What could possibly go wrong?

Generally speaking I followed a path of non violence and peaceful ways of drinking. I'm not a fighter, I'm the other guy. Except for instances of defending honour or protecting people, I was hardly ever in a fight. Add those circumstances in and I was still hardly ever in a fight. Further more, I usually didn't go for overt aggressive behaviour with my buds. I didn't feel the need to share my Festivus inspired feats of strength or push people around to show I was tough. Which I wasn't anyway but I was pretty strong....able to life a bag of potatoes right over my head and all...hahaha But this night I did.

I was comfortably numb, stretched out on a pool side lounger chatting up someone when my buddy Dave stumbled by. Without thinking I gave him a little nudge with my foot...just enough so that he stepped into the pool without breaking stride and walked right out of it again, hardly wet above his knees. I was impressed with his agility. He was less impressed with me. I want to say that he was furious but I don't think that manages to convey his mood at that moment. He was pissed. I think I may have embarrassed him in someway. Maybe he had shoes that he didn't want soaked...I don't know, but I thought he was over reacting.

Well, this of course set the table for some sort of revenge and knowing that he was as pissed as he was I knew it would be either painful or completely embarrassing, or both. I actually got a little scared, the anticipation building so that I walked around constantly looking back so as to avoid getting surprised. I continued to drink and cavort of course but I was constantly on the lookout for the revenge.

So, choices right.

I chose to drink
I chose to knock him in the pool
I continued to choose drinking
I chose to ignore my muted spidey sense
I chose to stay at the party
I chose to drink some more

And than I made the worst choice of all.

My fear of retribution, somehow, in my addled mind, led me to choose what I thought was a safe place to "hide". In plain site no less. I decided that the end of the diving board was my best chance at staying dry, because I was certain Dave wanted me in that pool. Choices right?

Thinking that there was no way Dave was going to sneak up on me and there was no way Dave was going to reach me out at the end of the board I surmised that I was as safe as I was going to be. Beer in hand, feet dangling as I stared up into the clear sky. Music playing, the sound of young people being alive. Trees over hanging the large backyard creating a mini Utopia right there in the wilds of Etobicoke. It was kind of nice to be honest. I had lost track of where Dave was lurking but I wasn't too concerned. Draining the last drop of my beer I realized that to have another beer I would need the help of someone or I would have to venture back into danger. I sat up to do some reconnoitring.

I barely registered the sound of bushes rustling before I realized that I had made a fatal error. I didn't take in account Dave's disregard for his own dryness. He hit me so hard in the tackle that I may have spit up a bit as I hit the pool with him on top of me. He didn't care about getting soaked, he cared about making sure I was soaked. His revenge was all that mattered.

Afterwards, while towelling off and hving a bikini clad girl dive for my glasses the inevitable "what the fuck were you thinking" question came. In what universe was that a good choice? Told you my brain works funny and back then, alcohol made it work even funnier.

Looking back I realized my folly was tied to detente with Dave. I apologized but didn't see the revenge in his heart as potent, despite his warning that he would get me. I figured it was simply bluster. I chose wrong that night.

But as has been said, God watches over fools and drunks and since I was both that night. all I came out with was a swim in the pool and a funny story to reminisce about.

Ciao
D

Unintended Consequences

"Who is Giuseppe Zangara? I don’t really know.

He’s a guy with a gun who fired five shots on February 15, 1933, killing the mayor of Chicago.

Why? Because Zangara was standing on a wobbly chair. And the mayor of Chicago wasn’t his target. It was the guy the mayor was shaking hands with: the newly elected president, Franklin Roosevelt.

If Zangara’s chair isn’t wobbly, Roosevelt never takes office, and we swear in his running mate, John Nance Garner, a man whose political ideology was the basis for his opposition to a package of legislation that would be called the New Deal.

And we don’t survive the Great Depression."

Yeah, another Aaron Sorkin homage if you will. I told you...it's my blog so I get to do whatever I want. I seem to be on a Sorkin bent lately, or maybe I'm always there and I simply stray away from time to time. Either way, here we are again, once more into the abyss.

History is rife with examples of the what ifs of life that seem to course through time. A recurring theme for Sir Sorkin is the idea of the path not chosen, a reflection of what might have happened if door B was chosen instead of door A. Not a regret, simply reflection. Once again a way for us to do better by knowing better.

What if the chair wasn't wobbly and Roosevelt was killed? Who can say for sure. What if Dr. King hadn't stepped out onto the balcony that day in Memphis. What if Kennedy hadn't been shot on that November day in Dallas? Personally I think that moment was when the country below us began losing it's way. Not because he was shot, they do have an affection for the ways of the gun as we know and tend to feel that it is a viable answer to their perceived and real problems. But because he was cut short in implementing the changes that may have prevented Vietnam from engulfing the nation, which, again in my opinion, is where the country really lost it's way. 

America is an idea, at least it started as an idea, answering to the people and being a beacon for freedom and prosperity. You can judge for yourself what it has turned into over its history but for me it has become a mish mash of power, greed, division and fear. Intricately woven into that is hope, idealism and a capacity for greatness. I feel they have become their own worst enemies and it would take a lifetime of study to plot how they came from the Declaration of Independence to Drumph threatening to build a big beautiful wall to keep out the bad dudes. To be clear I'm not in any way suggesting that the country was pure as the driven snow, they have always had dark spots, like any nation, just simply that it seems to me that they are truly lost now. And I don't think that's a good thing for the world. They wield too much power and influence for it to be OK to simply turn a blind eye to their transgressions....talk about the elephant and mouse sharing a bed eh?

The Democratic party and its institutional machinery had a chosen standard bearer for the last election in the name of Hilary Clinton. A worthy and hard working career politician that simply gotten eaten alive by the fact that the Republicans had gerrymandered enough districts over the past few terms. She wasn't perfect but she would have been certainly more effective in being, you know, human, than that shit head Drumph. The fact that Bernie Sanders was a more populist choice amongst not only Democrats but moderate Republicans points to the unintended consequence that the establishment has to live with...they got Drumph because they didn't allow the process, flawed as it is, to run its course. So Hilary is writing memoirs, Bernie considers another run and in the mean time we have that fuck wad screwing with the world.

If you ask me the biggest issue that "politics" suffers from in America is the money that is thrown around during the never ending election process. In the name of free speech they have, through a series of laws and amendments, legalized bribery in their election cycle. Whether the FEC and Congress meant to allow these things or they were an unintended consequence of the changes they have made over the years is up for debate, what can't be argued is the fact that there is a lot of money being thrown around by special interest groups and industry...that's the real Hunger Games. Eat or be eaten and on the menu is power and influence with the dessert course being bags full of money. That is simply insidious. Closely following is the antiquated electoral college...really??? I mean really? Enough said.

I like to think about that road not taken sometimes and the unintended consequences that I may have inspired by choosing this way or that. It's a good existential exercise. It's also an opportunity to day dream. So that can't be all bad...all us dreamers out here might think...

Ciao
D

Walls of Jericho

Let me set the scene, not that any true Leafs fan would need to be reminded of course. The 1992/93 season was an amazing time to be following the Buds as they put the league on notice that they were back. The stars had aligned and Doug Gilmour put the team on his back while carrying them to game seven of the conference final, one win away from a berth in the final for the holy grail of sports. As most fans know, in game six they were robbed by a non call on the Great One. A missed high stick call by the ref on the greatest player to ever play and then he goes on to score the winning goal in overtime, leading to game seven where he scored three goals and led his team to defeat by the Montreal Canadians.

Two thing here, a) The Leafs would have won over the Habs. It would have been an epic wet dream come true for the hockey crazed cities and Canada in general, with the Leafs finally breaking the drought. Since the year before I was born they have not tasted the champers from the cup. b) It wasn't Gretzky's fault. The refs yes, for sure. But not The Great One. He simply did what he did better than almost everyone ever, he played to win; with style, professionalism and dignity.

But boy oh boy did people enjoy tearing him down. All through his successful career you could listen to all manner of people tear him down, as if by doing so they were made better somehow. This got me to thinking about how we, as a people, do that all the time. We tear down our heroes with a fervent passion that should be reserved for love making and horseshoes. It's sad really.

When the Oilers won their first cup, ending the NY Islanders dynasty Gretzky could do no wrong, he was the best player on the planet and a cup was in Canada for the next four years. When their dynasty ended he was that guy, that Hollywood guy that married the actress while jetting away to LA.

"you either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain"

And the walls came tumbling down. Almost gleefully we enjoyed vilifying Wayne for being Wayne. On the way up we are all impressed and took no small amount of pride watching "one of our own" climb to the top only to resent him once he got there and outlived our admiration. Men and women of inspiration, of passion and determination in all walks of life...Kennedy, Obama, Trudeau, Mandela...loved and hated. History is rife with these heroes and goats. Now sometimes a fall from grace can be understood when they fail to deliver on the promise of their passion, whatever the reason. Think of Obama and his wave of hope that ran smack into a wall of obstructionist and partisan resistance that denied him some opportunities to accomplish what he wanted to do, what we needed him to do.

And while he did accomplish a lot he was still torn down by those that would have supported him because he didn't do it all and even did things that maybe didn't mesh well with what they wanted for him. The world is grey and walking into the oval office to learn how it really is must be a sobering thing to do. I believe he did his best like I believe Trudeau will do his best. But that doesn't seem to matter for the world at large...they're busy tearing at the flesh. It would seem the best in some people bring out the worst in others.

Everyday we can see, if we choose to look, examples of selfless sacrifice, open hearts and minds and a kindness to all that should inspire the world to reach for higher ground together. Instead, often we get the low hanging fruit of gotcha politics and the fortress of us against them that passes for leadership. And as long as someone can get something from it decency is thrown to the wolves in the name of power. No more I say.

Pulling together a few Sorkinisms to say that we can be an inch nicer to the world, we can be subject to one another without asking what's in it for me. In all his madness atop his donkey, let Quixote show us the way for a renaissance of decency. Pie in the sky? Probably. I don't care, I'm on a mission to civilize.

Nice guys finish last? Not for a moment to a believe this and if it were true I would still rather know the nice guy. Be the nice guy.

And you thought this was going to be about the Leafs...hahahahaha

Ciao
D

Unfinished Business

Once again we approach headlong into my favourite time of year, the summer sun is waning and soon the crispness of the fall season will be upon us. The explosion of colours, the refreshing coolness that comes with those just not warm enough days that you think about dispatching your shorts in favour of a comfy sweater...ahhhhhh It seemed like a perfect time this past weekend to do some visiting with a few friends. Some sushi, a movie, a road trip or two and lots of conversations to fill the well.

I love how a conversation starts in one place and ends up in a, seemingly, entirely different spot twenty minutes later. You start talking about a rambunctious kid and end up waxing poetic about the back of a one dollar bill. Like watching a YouTube video for a song you just wanted to hear and ending up watching lions trying to take down a hippo...WTF internet!! Tangential brain at work maybe? But I digress. Certainly watching a West Wing episode or two prior to this road trip visit had the idea swirlings in my head, how it came to make sense in the moment while dodging Nerf darts and talking about the chaos of life in the middle of nowhere...well, life is grand if you allow it to be.

This image of the US dollar bill is a version of the Eye of Providence with the Latin phrase Annuit Cœptis above it. I'm sure it was the Masons that pulled all this together in some fashion and I have to tell you, I really like the symbolism it provides. As I understand it, thanks to Aaron Sorkin for opening the door on it by the way, the great eye and the Latin phrase has the essential meaning of God watching over and approving their undertakings. I'm not so sure he would approve today of course but that's another thing entirely. More importantly, to me at least, is the fact that the pyramid is not finished. Representing the understanding that their country isn't meant to be finished, they are supposed to keep growing, keep getting better...always.

As you may guess, I was struck by that in a personal reflection kind of way. While sipping tea and watching my friend get used for target practice by her son and his Nerf guns we were talking about life's way of kicking you while you're down. She has had some of the worst luck in life and yet still has the compassion and humanity to see through it. Her faith in God and her own intestinal fortitude dragging her through until that better tomorrow finally gets here. I have often said, over the past few years at least, I know that tomorrow will be better, and the day after that will be better still. Like the founding fathers of the disaster below the 49th parallel had envisioned, we are meant to always do better.

We are meant to challenge ourselves, to read difficult things and have difficult conversations. To quote a former girlfriend...when you know better, you do better. And here is where tangential brain kicked in again. As I was saying that little ditty to my friend I was whisked back to the age of 22 or 23. Sitting across from my fiance in a restaurant that she loved and I didn't think was all that good. Over a forgettable meal, in what can only be described as the arrogance of my youth, I had talked about how I felt at that moment in time, how my life was as good as it can be, things were perfect and by extension I was perfect. I had a soon to be wife I loved, a career and business that was growing, I was healthy and things just seemed to be working out so well. Arrogant? Probably, but to be honest, also true for that moment in time. I was on top of the world. Just like I was on top of the world a few years earlier as rulers of the school in our final year of high school. And do you want to know a secret....I feel like that today. The difference is, I know that there is always room for growth. Look at me being all adulty.

We are meant to be always moving forward, rising above everyday to be a better version of ourselves. 2.0, 3.0 and on up to today 18117.0. Sure we are going to have days, weeks and even years that seem to be dragging us down, but the unfinished business of our lives isn't going anywhere....the struggle matters, it is what shapes us for tomorrow. And in those times of despair, when it seems too much, lean on your friends and family. Accept the fact that you will have days that are harder than you think you can handle....trust me, you can get through. Setting goals is fine just don't let them rule you...putting yourself in a box isn't going to be helpful if you don't reach a goal by some artificial date of your choosing. Fluidity in life experiences and expectations is what I am saying.

For me, these small escapades this past weekend have somehow helped to clarify a few things. My pyramid is far from done...and your's aren't close either, and allowing for that fact makes a difference I believe.

Ciao
D

Change the Equation

A long time ago, while providing catering service for a semi private club back in The Big Smoke I had the opportunity to become acquainted with a family from the UK. Husband and wife and teenage daughter. They were nice enough people, the daughter especially was one of those young people that you hope your eventual kids will aspire to be like....intelligent, self aware and simply a good person. You knew she would do well in life.

The mother and father were enigmas in some ways to me. I always had the feeling that the father, Tony if I recall, looked down at me. I know I was barely older than his daughter and still had that rebel thing going on but is that really reason to think that I warranted no thought what so ever? I think not. And then we ended up having a somewhat intelligent conversation about whatever was going on in the world that day, Clinton or Bush had done something and we chatted for a good half hour. I think that opened the door to the fact that maybe I wasn't as dumb as he thought I was. He even mentioned this to his daughter because a few days later she asked me what we had talked about...because he was taken by surprise. Who knew? Keep em guessing I say.

The mother was on a whole other playing level though. Have you ever met anyone that you simply felt that they had lived their entire life without learning a god damn thing about the way the world works? This was her. Happily ensconced in her make believe world of Cosmo and Chatelaine she was blissfully unaware of the world. I couldn't keep a conversation with her for more than a minute or two back then...can you imagine what would happen today?

And why are we talking about this? I don't know to be honest, I sat here poised with fingers on keys ready to start typing away and this is what came to my mind for some odd reason. So let's see if this somehow relates to what I thought I was going to write about.

I used to say, about a certain someone, that they were very binary in their thinking. Ones and zeros, rights and wrongs and so on. And I, in the end, couldn't understand that kind of approach to life, it didn't mesh with my way of living. As I have said before here, the world is grey, our lives are grey. While there are absolutes to be sure, be it moral or not, it is also true that our lives and the lives of all around us are too nuanced to live in the belief that all things can be summed up easily though a series of equations.

Maybe that's what this is? Binary thinking, equations and all that jazz. The wife above, to my limited knowledge of her, seemed to be happy with one plus one equals two. Forget algebra and calculus, keep it simple and pass the champers darling. I'm sure we all know people like that, and whether that is the facade they present or how they really are  in the end we have to learn to get along with everyone. Right?

Well, yes and no my friends. Sure, a co-worker being from the shallow end of the gene pool is one thing; the twenty something cutting your hair and talking about the weather is one thing; but family, friends and lovers are an entirely different thing. What do you do there? If you care to or if you feel the need to, you change the equation. I'm divorced. I changed that equation. It needn't be that dramatic of course, you simply need to open your eyes to a new way of looking and being? Adding some algebra to the equation that is your life, so to speak.

I was asked recently what my grand plan is. I don't know if I have one outside of saying that I want to be happy in my life. Whatever happiness might be on any given day, be it short or long term, it matters not...just be happy. When I skid to the end of my life all I really hope for is no regrets. I know already that I have family and friends that love me. I will meet new people I will have new experiences and I know that I won't be alone. So ensuring that I am not afraid to change the equation as I work through this massive non binary thing known as life is my contribution to the chaos.

This is my approach....what is yours?

Ciao
D