souliloquies

took me by surprise

doesn't matter where i go, or what i'm doing, there it is. and i'm sure it's the same for you.

when i went into the video store, there he was, in not-so-living color on the triple-screen displays, grinding and gliding, thrilling me.

got in the car with a musician friend after a gig--a gig in which he played a lovely rendition of the way you make me feel in tribute--and, as he turned the inevitable music on, said in mock apology that he, just like everyone else these days, was totally wrapped up in listening to the king. not even the king of pop, did you catch that?  just the king.

and i have to confess that this untimely death and the resulting frenzy has made me look at my itunes library and think--hey! i don't have any michael jackson here! i know i had some at one time, but i suppose it was on cassette tape and didn't survive the journey through the years and transition to digital music. so i have none. the temptation to go immediately and buy all of jackson's music has been pretty strong. it's been quite a while since i've listened to michael in any sustained focused kind of way, and i'd actually forgotten how brilliant his music is, how riveting his videos, how far beyond spectacular the force of his talent. a hackneyed phrase, to call him one of the truly great, and yet no less true of him for all that. born at the right time, in the right culture, he took what music was and made it more than it otherwise ever could be.

but let's be honest.  it's not been easy these last few years to be a michael jackson fan.  the strangeness, the suspicions, the bizarre reports of behavior, the trial, the children, his children... the last 15 or 20 years have taken their toll on people's opinion of michael.  it's always hard, sometimes near impossible, for the public to separate a performing artist and their art.  so when an artist is alleged to be involved in activities that the general public finds objectionable or even abhorrent, it's hard for that public to fully embrace the art itself. outside of one or two people who have been all along strong and objective enough to make that distinction, i know of no one who hasn't somehow felt the need to express their love for his music without some kind of disclaimer, some kind of need to acknowledge that loving the music and the musician doesn't necessarily mean loving all that the man might be or do.

what's captivating me is that somehow, now, that's all changed. while no one's denying the fact that michael jackson's personal life does not appear to have been what most people would call normal,or even desirable, michael's death seems to have done more for michael's music that michael's last decades of living ever could.  somehow, death has, in a very final and inviolable way, allowed people the freedom to appreciate michael's genius without feeling drawn into michael's pathos. his brilliance has somehow been rediscovered, as if the stories from his personal life were simply a layer of grime covering the purity of his incredible talent and artistic ability that has now been lifted away. 

i don't know why it is. i didn't even realize, until these last few days, that i carried myself a reluctance to enjoy michael's music, that i myself sometimes felt a compulsion to distance myself from his music, because of the stories about his personal life. i can think of possible explanations, and i'm sure you can too, but none of them really ring true for me. and i don't know how i feel about the fact that i now feel somewhat released from that reluctance now that he's gone. it's something i'm going to need to sort out, to examine about myself. what i do know, however, is that i'm looking forward to starting to enjoy some fabulous music i've pretty much ignored for a while, that i can't wait to go buy it, to own it, to relish it. it's a new compulsion regarding michael jackson, and of the two, the one i'm pretty sure i'd rather have.

I can't help it if I wanted to

I wouldn't help it even if I could

I can't help it if I wanted to

I wouldn't help it, no

i can't help it--off the wall

progress

remember this post?  well, today was a little nutty as well. certainly not as crazy as the day that prompted the afore-mentioned confession, but still quite challenging in its own right, at least technically, and in more ways than one. and guess what? i was calm, cool & collected the whole time. the whole time. no crappy attitude. no freaking out--instead i was flexible, go-with-the-flow, and most importantly--not cranky. you may not give a rat's ass, but i'm very proud of myself. and all without any mental glucosamine. now that's progress.

i wish it were mine

found this on seth godin's blog. i wish i'd written it. i wish i had an office, because it'd probably get printed up and framed and put up on the wall there.  as it is, i'm re-posting it here for you, because it's a good thing to read, and share, and to remember.  

You matter

• When you love the work you do and the people you do it with, you matter. 
• When you are so gracious and generous and aware that you think of other people before yourself, you matter.
• When you leave the world a better place than you found it, you matter.
• When you continue to raise the bar on what you do and how you do it, you matter.
• When you teach and forgive and teach more before you rush to judge and demean, you matter.
• When you touch the people in your life through your actions (and your words), you matter.
• When kids grow up wanting to be you, you matter.
• When you see the world as it is, but insist on making it more like it could be, you matter.
• When you inspire a Nobel prize winner or a slum dweller, you matter.
• When the room brightens when you walk in, you matter.
• And when the legacy you leave behind lasts for hours, days or a lifetime, you matter.

• When you love the work you do and the people you do it with, you matter. 
• When you are so gracious and generous and aware that you think of other people before yourself, you matter.
• When you leave the world a better place than you found it, you matter.
• When you continue to raise the bar on what you do and how you do it, you matter.
• When you teach and forgive and teach more before you rush to judge and demean, you matter.
• When you touch the people in your life through your actions (and your words), you matter.
• When kids grow up wanting to be you, you matter.
• When you see the world as it is, but insist on making it more like it could be, you matter.
• When you inspire a Nobel prize winner or a slum dweller, you matter.
• When the room brightens when you walk in, you matter.
• And when the legacy you leave behind lasts for hours, days or a lifetime, you matter.

red light green light

it seems there are two themes around my life these days--moving, and dying. neither of them am i experiencing directly, but in my general circle i sure see them active right now in people’s lives. i have  four or five or more different friends who are in the process of moving, or about to move, many of them long-distance moves across the country from state to state. some of them are exciting moves--goals being realized of a bigger, more functional home for their family, or a move to a long-dreamed-of location finally coming true.  but some are hard moves--a job in a new city that didn’t work out, or a home being lost due to economic struggle. all involve joy and sorrow, stress and excitement.  and all are hard--good hard, bad hard, maybe both--but hard.

and then there’s the death theme--i'm reading a lush, sad book about two friends separated by death. i have a friend whose mother is dying, and she’s now caring for her, and another friend whose grandmother is close to death in a different state, and a couple of acquaintances that i’ve been made aware, either directly from them or through the grapevine, of deaths in their family.  hard things.  hard.

and as i realize how prevalent these two themes are right now, i also realize how much they have in common.  each is a moving on, with difficulties both fore and aft, at least for some of the people involved.  each has its own demands in terms of preparation for the change.  both have elements of grief and loss, of fear of the unknown and the uncertaintly of how to navigate a future without some of what life holds right now.  but each has joyous elements too--the celebration of what’s been, a realization and clarifying of what’s important and what’s lasting versus what’s trivial and what’s temporary, the relief of pain or freedom from struggle.  both of these experiences, of course,  are about change--irrevocable, far-reaching change. change that’s caused by some kind of death, whether literal or figurative: the loss of a life or a lifestyle, a friend or a neighborhood, a family member or a whole community. a loss that effects not one person or one family, but those around them whose lives they intersect--lives which may no longer touch, at least not in the same ways.

but both of these experiences--both of them--are not just about ending. not just about the loss.  both of these experiences are about beginnings, and gaining, as well. it’s easier to see in the act of moving, which can include new neighbors, new friends, new schools, new jobs, new opportunities, new places to invest. but death isn’t just an ending either, although it may seem like that for those of us left behind--it’s also definitely a beginning.  it’s a beginning for those of us left behind--a time to learn to live a life without a loved one, for sure, but also perhaps an opportunity to shoulder and now carry part of what that friend or family member brought to the world, a passing of the legacy, perhaps. a stepping up or in to fill the space they left behind by carrying on in, in our own unique way, the contribution they gave to the world. it's an opportunity for us to grow and expand and become better people, based on that loved one's contribution and impact on our lives. and as a Christ-follower, i believe that my brothers’ and sisters’ lives aren’t so much ending as they are beginning. they’re moving, as it were, into the new life through Jesus that they’ve been promised. and it's a life more beautiful and thrilling than anything any of us can imagine. a beautiful beginning. 

my friend kristina, one of the ones that’s in the middle of moving right now, recently posted this on facebook:

 I'm just tired. Tired of waiting, tired of being excited, tired of the details. Tired of the end. I want to get to the beginning...

what an idea!  so often we just want to get to the end. to be finished. to have done with the work and the pain and the stress and the challenge.  i can’t wait til this is over, we say. i just want to be done. we don't alway look past the end. so to also anticipate the beginning, which has its own joys and sorrows and challenges and tired-ness... those beginnings are what balance things, complete the cycle and start it up again, give us perspective and wisdom, and that give the endings meaning and weight. harder to remember as we face the pain of a hard, forced move, or the even greater pain of a loved one's death, but still appropriate to the experience. still part of the process. and something to be embraced.

so for all you friends who are facing an end right now, an end that is especially hard and tiring--i want you to know i’m thinking of you and praying for you and hoping for you. may you have the freedom to grieve the things you need to thoroughly and well, the clarity of mind to remember the joy, and the time well-lived, and the recognition of the experiences that have shaped you and grown you and made you who you are right now--because it’s all of this rich and valuable stuff that's what makes an ending so hard--and so significant. and for those of you facing beginnings--i’m  thinking of and praying for and hoping for you, too. may you have the joy and the energy and the adventurous spirit to begin again in new ways, in new places and new situations, the boldness of spirit to move forward without fear, and the support and community to strengthen and sustain you after the initial excitement fades and the deep work of the journey remains.

and may you all, whether beginning or ending or both, have more  peace and joy and love and comfort and grace than you could think to ask for. so that you may squeeze the very best, last drop out of this experience, and take it with you as you go.

into the next thing.

be glad you get anything at all

last night's dinner was a pre-made submarine sandwich and ice cream sundaes. today's blog offering is in the same vein. pre-made, short and sweet. better than nothing, and with very little in the way of dishes to clean up.