No Hard Feelings (The Avett Brothers)

Morning.  I am still unable to add Good beforehand, nor an exclamation point afterward.  I said in a previous post that mornings are my enemy, because they are irrefutable proof that Eric is not coming back.  But that is for another time... 💔

We are headed to Nancy's for brunch in an hour or so.  It's been an amazing weekend of family and friends and, despite the tragic circumstances (or maybe because of them), we've had so many beautiful re-connections... and I hope we've all vowed to use this as a jumping-off place to reach out more often.  A wedding and a funeral within a month of each other.  The Circle of Life... ⌾

I arrived at the venue yesterday, "shaking people off like a bad pitch", letting them know that I just could not handle hugs nor any extension of kindness, because I would just fall apart.  But that lasted about 15 minutes when I began to melt and accept, and then I went back to those I'd refused and opened my arms in welcome.  And some of them made me cry, but all of them comforted me too.  

I know I keep using this word, and it does mean what I think it means (a nod to The Princess Bride), but we were Gobsmacked by the number of people in attendance:  Eric's Ace Crew (skateboarding), neighborhood friends, gamer peeps, lifeguarding proteges from his C.B. Smith days, his *new* boss came from North Carolina, Chico's soccer folks, my folk club/book club/gardening gangs, our nearest and dearest:  friends as well as family mentioned above.

I loved that we were able to arrange a Zoom link, so that many out-of-towners were able to tune in.  My understanding is that Rebecca (the River of Grass person recording) will "clean up" the video, send to us in completed form, at which point we can upload it to a YouTube channel (either Duyen's or Eric's).  It is recorded for posterity... in perpetuity... with peace.  I would like to watch it at some point but, in the meantime, I am grateful to have not only made it through, but presented our love for E with grace and style.  We honored our boy.  WWED?  

We are so unbelievably grateful for it all; I am truly counting my blessings for a life well-lived, his as well as ours.

I need to figure out how I can share the Celebration of Life program here but, in the meantime, here are the words/tribute/eulogy I spoke:

I'm Susan Moss, Eric's mom.

Everyone who knows me knows that I love to swear... selective swearing, though (I definitely don't do it around my sweet Colin)... but sometimes only a well-placed, well-timed expletive will do.  So let's just get it out of the way.  Parents are not supposed to outlive their children.  It is f*cking unimaginable... ridiculous... astounding that we are all here today for that reason.  Our dear Eric is gone.

This entire service (from the music to the readings to the remembrances to the decor) is all about Eric.   Those who knew and loved him, and who he knew and loved in return, are in this room.  We are beyond grateful you took time out of what we all know to be Busy Lives to be in attendance today.  You have crossed county lines... state lines... time zones.  He would be so pleased.  E is the hub and we are the spokes:  his/our immediate and extended family, his chosen companion for the last two years and her family, his friends (many of those from childhood, with whom he continued a connection), his work colleagues, past as well as present.

Anyone who knows me also realizes I am all about Synchronicity.  Chico and I drove up to Atlanta in early-September to attend my brother's wedding but, in retrospect, and as fabulous as their wedding was... I now believe that was The Universe's way of orchestrating an opportunity for us to see Eric again (since he had just moved up to Atlanta in mid-March).  We hung out for three hours, conversing and laughing, took a lovely selfie, and got back in the car to Aiken South Carolina to visit with Chico's sister and her family.

The last few years have found me adopting a philosophy of Every Day Is Day One... tabula rasa... clean slate... no grudges... Both/And.  I can assure you that it's incredibly liberating.  We feel so lucky there were no regrets with E, no woulda/coulda/shoulda.

So far, he's given us signs of rainbows... and an owl appeared to me that I am sure was a visitation.  And, even though I've declared a moratorium on tattoos ("seven is the number", sings Dave Carter), if I hear Eric's voice whispering in my ear that it might be time for more ink, one of you will be getting a call to accompany me.

In the video you will soon see, I was reminded that Eric danced like a male stripper... and you'll have to ask Sarah or Rob to tell you the Hello Kitty Backpack story... and I used to call him Max from Where the Wild Things Are... and when I wished him Happy Birthday on Facebook a few years ago, telling him:  "E, you gave me all my gray hair, but you gave me all my laugh lines too!"... and he replied:  I'll take 33% blame for the gray hair, but 100% credit for the laugh lines"... 😊

And if my Uncle Andy (soon to be 92 years old) was here, he would yodel... because that's a longstanding family tradition for all important milestones, whether birthdays, weddings, or funerals!

I am a poetry lover, and they have been finding *me* the last few weeks, just yesterday this short one by Mary Oliver:

Everything that was broken has

forgotten its brokenness. I live

now in a sky-house, through every

window the sun. Also your presence.

Our touching, our stories. Earthly

and holy both. How can this be, but

it is. Every day has something in

it whose name is forever.

I loved my hilarious, smart, kind, articulate, generous-of-spirit (and let's not forget handsome!) son fiercely.  Justin Cronin says: “As long as we remember a person, they're not really gone."  Please remember Eric.  Remember him.

SONG(S):  No Hard Feelings by The Avett Brothers

BOOK:  Everything I Need To Know I Learned From a Little Golden Book by Diane Muldrow

POEM(S):  Gentle by Alfred K. LaMotte

A gentler world begins

in the way you touch your heart.

Be soft with the light inside you.

Caress your body with this breath.

God is nothing else

but the place where the sun comes up

in your chest.

You are the glimmering destination.

You are the golden honey daubed

on the bread of the ordinary.

Whatever is perfect,

whatever is heavenly,

begins here.

QUOTE:  "Grief and its surrender. Joy and its surrender. Any act and its surrender." ~ Maya Stein

Always On My Mind (Willie Nelson)

Sarah bought three tickets for the Outlaw Music Festival last night; Willie Nelson was the headliner but of course we were really there to see The Avett Brothers, a longtime MossFam fave ("Always remember there was nothing worth sharing like the love that let us share our name" ~ Murder in the City).

So, there was a particular song we were conjuring, which I'm not divulging here because we'll be using it in E's Celebration of Life and, as soon as we heard the opening strains, we all grasped on to each other tightly for the remainder of the song, weeping openly.

And there were two annoying drunk women behind us the whole festival but, after the song was over, one of them leaned over and said to me:  "what's your phone number?" and I said: "why?" (to reiterate, my grief reflex is Snappishness)... and she replied that she was so touched by our moment that she took a pic from above and wanted to send it to us. And then I revoked all my unkind words and thoughts about the two annoying drunk women.  The Universe does provide... 😳

Also, on the way to the venue, we saw a rainbow.  Then we arrived at the venue, got settled, and saw another rainbow.  Then another.  We all have that story, I think; what's yours? (feel free to share in a comment). After musician/friend Dave Carter passed, dragonflies were in abundance; after my mom's passing as well.  For my friend Michele, feathers appear to remind her of her mom.  For my friend Pam, dimes randomly show up for her boyfriend Michael.  We will now and forever associate rainbows with our dear Eric... 🌈

P.S.  We did stay a bit for Willie Nelson, maybe 5 songs?  Despite the fact that he's 90 (what?!?), he looked and sounded pretty d*mn great... 😀

SONG:  Always On My Mind by Willie Nelson

BOOK:  September Letters: Finding Strength and Connection in Sharing Our Stories by Brittany Snow, Jaspre Guest

POEM:  Saving Grace by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

I didn't even see

the slender red salamander

curled in the middle

of the country road,

but Brad stopped to kneel

beside it and told us

if you pick them up

by the tail, they will lose

their tail—an attempt

to distract a predator

while the rest

of the body escapes.

So tenderly, he brushed

the small amphibian

into his open palm,

then gently placed it intact

in the wet grass beside the road.

If this day were a novel,

I'd say the morning walk

was foreshadowing.

Everywhere we went

there were hands

that opened in kindness—

to greet, to serve cake,

to hug, to wave—

as if everyone agreed it matters,

the way we treat each other.

How quickly we can fall apart

when threatened.

How easily, sometimes,

we are saved.

QUOTE:  “Days of death are days when we weigh our relationship with love in our bare hands.  Days when we remember what has gone, and fear what is to come. The joy love brings, and the price we pay.” ~ The Last Devil to Die, novel by Richard Osman (thanks to MaryL for the heads-up!)

Sun, Flood, or Drought (The Avett Brothers)

Our regular Thursday morning weeding in the Hope Outreach Community Garden was cancelled yesterday, because we are meeting up Saturday (tomorrow) morning to plant cover crops, a term that was heretofore unknown to me.  It's basically a "placeholder" to add nutrients to the soil until we plant the regular fruits and vegetables in late-September.  Ours will be sunn hemp... ☀

On the recommendation of a friend (over a month ago), I watched a film that was so beautiful, my heart literally hurt... and I want to view it again, soon.  They even discuss cover crops!

The Biggest Little Farm chronicles the eight-year quest of John and Molly Chester as they trade city living for 200 acres of barren farmland and a dream to harvest in harmony with nature. Through dogged perseverance and embracing the opportunity provided by nature's conflicts, the Chesters unlock and uncover a biodiverse design for living that exists far beyond their farm, its seasons, and our wildest imagination. Featuring breathtaking cinematography, captivating animals, and an urgent message to heed Mother Nature's call, The Biggest Little Farm provides us all a vital blueprint for better living and a healthier planet.

Thinking positive thoughts that Tropical Storm Fred does not become a hurricane and, even if it does, hoping it causes little to no destruction.  At this point, it appears to be headed up the west coast of Florida (after it crosses The Keys), but one never knows with these disturbances.

It is indeed Feel Good Friday and, as is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy! 

~ Allison Larkin’s love for Ithaca inspires the setting in her new novel:  “The People We Keep” is a coming-of-age novel that follows a 16-year-old songwriter as she leaves home and tries to find herself in the world. (partially inspired by Dar Williams' song Iowa... 💗 )


~ How to Shop Online More Sustainably:  As I’ve since learned, the consensus among independent researchers is that online shopping can in fact be much less damaging to the environment than traditional, in-store shopping—but only if we do it the right way.


~  The Desert Dolphin Skatepark was constructed as a part of the international feature film titled ‘SKATER GIRL’:  After filming completed in April 2019, the skatepark remains a free public use skatepark, with the aim of continuing the social impact such skateparks have on rural Indian villages. 


~ Inside the Annual Ernest Hemingway Look-Alike Competition:  If you’d gone for a walk around Key West in the 1930s, chances are you might have bumped into Ernest Hemingway. Whether making the short stroll from his house on Whitehead Street to the bars on Duval, one block over and several up, or perhaps on his way to the nearby marina where he moored his deep sea fishing boat, the Pilar, Hemingway was a near constant feature of island life between 1931 and 1940. 


~ Strong Back, Soft Front, Wild Heart:  Brené Brown says our belonging to each other can’t be lost, but it can be forgotten. Her research has reminded the world in recent years of the uncomfortable, life-giving link between vulnerability and courage. Now she’s turning her attention to how we walked into the crisis of our life together and how we can move beyond it...

SONG:  Sun, Flood, or Drought by The Avett Brothers (written for The Biggest Little Farm film documentary)

BOOK:  Homegrown Humus: Cover Crops in a No-Till Garden by Anna Hess

POEM:  Self-Portrait by Afaa Michael Weaver

I see myself in the shadows of a leaf

compressed to the green blades growing

to a point like the shards of miles of mirrors

falling and cracking to perfect gardens.

I never inspect the withered assumption

of my face’s petty dialogue in raindrops,

the deceptive spreading of the words

oozing from the skin to the edges of water

etched on the ground by gravity and wishing.

Passing for the seriousness of my eye,

platitudes of my white collar or

the perfect posture of my lips, it skirts

from the leaves of the plant hiding me

and sits stoic like stone in my pupil,

mute and unassuming, like Rashi.

To gather myself I will swim naked

in the wind, bending my blind elbows

in circles, stopping now to dance

like the cherubic gold on the ark,

and gather myself from the particles

of this excitement another structure,

one closely resembling the beginning.

QUOTE:  "A good morning text that says, 'have a good day and try not to burn anything to the ground in a furious rage.' " ~ Samantha Irby

No Hard Feelings (The Avett Brothers)

Feeling somber tonight, as a dear friend called me a few evenings ago to tell me that her former husband had passed away unexpectedly, cause unknown.  I knew him as an acquaintance, but always had a great interaction whenever we crossed paths.  It's just got me thinking of how vulnerable we all are, living one day at a time, never fully aware that we might not wake up the next morning.  You know the drill.  Hug your special people extra tight.

"For life and its loveliness" indeed... 💖

SONG:  No Hard Feelings by The Avett Brothers (we shared a love for this band... ♩♪🎵)

BOOK:  Grief Day By Day: Simple Practices and Daily Guidance for Living with Loss by Jan Warner, Amanda Bearse (Foreword)

POEM:  Self-Portrait As Escape Artist by Jeannine Hall Gailey

I could say at 42 I’ve escaped death already many times.

Maybe I was due, like a library book,

at an earlier age, but some spirit renewed me.

I almost drowned at three, then twice got scarlet fever

at 6 and 10. I could have died of my rare bleeding disorder

at 12; thanks to modern prescriptions, life prevailed.

I’ve become an expert at dodging tornadoes

and downed planes, traffic accidents and plain old bad luck.

I’ve been in a lot of hospitals, where doctors made mistakes—

but still, woke up every time, little worse for wear.

I’ve been scared of death, but now he seems so familiar,

an old sweater I’ve casually tossed aside so often.

Please remember when I die that I was lucky

to be here at all—my mother’s pregnancy uneasy,

birth difficult and under an ill star, infancy involving

incubators for a little baby blue me. So when I finally

take the fall, I must remember to say thank you

for the breaks that kept me ahead of the game so long.

QUOTE:  "Between our birth and death we may touch understanding, as a moth brushes a window with its wing." ~ Christopher Fry

Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise (The Avett Brothers)

An interesting week, to put it mildly.  I was experiencing my own turmoil in various aspects of my life so, as well as turning inward to find the growth opportunity, I had some great conversations with a few dear friends and family members.  These days I find myself very scattered, unfocused, disorganized... which meant that the agenda items I was attempting to accomplish ended up with multiple mistakes, meaning that I spent more time correcting than I did accomplishing.  Yikes.

Also, over the last week, Sarah has been working with Colin on his listening skills, especially walking through their apartment complex, making sure he knows that the command of "red light" means STOP... immediately!  She is also teaching him about looking left-then-right-then-left-again, then holding her hand at a busy intersection before crossing, even in the parking lot.

I of course had an epiphany that I should use that as my life-metaphor for a while; rather than rushing headlong into potential problems, I would internally look left-then-right-then-left-again, especially where emotions are concerned.  What's the hurry?  Look how much time we have available to ourselves these days.  Use it as a commodity, and not a catastrophe.  Slow the f*ck down, Susan.  Better to delay my response than to say or do something I'd eventually need to back-pedal or retract.  I had a few occasions today in which to do just that, and the outcome was better than hoped for.  Colin became the Master and I the Grasshopper.  "The teacher appears when the lesson is ready to be learned", right?

I've also recalibrated a few other things in my life, beginning with TV.  I do love movies and series, but I've lately been using them to numb out, rather than escape.  Plus, every minute I spend in front of a screen, I am taking away from my primary love:  reading.  Vowed to turn that around and, over the course of the last few days, I am much calmer and more "here".

My sleep patterns have been really off too, because I am waking up earlier, eager to face the day (with a book), but then there's just so much of it (ha!).  My new end-of-evening routine, also instead of TV, is to turn the lights down low, stretch out on the guest room couch with Pandora, headphones (my new best friend!), and The Avett Brothers station (which has included James Taylor, Neil Young, The Rolling Stones, Coldplay, The Beatles, for about an hour (the Dar Williams station is great too).  I can then segue very easily into sleep in my own bed... hopefully by midnight.  Aaahhh!

What are some effective coping mechanisms for you?  How are you getting out of your own way (and head) to take better care of yourself, without falling down the rabbithole?

Of course, the news is full of gloom and doom, panic and pandemonium, chaos and crisis.  This essay by Mark Morford (my favorite SFGate-columnist-turned-yoga-instructor) popped up in my e-mail yesterday.  Perfect timing!

How to avoid the temptation to drown in fatalism? Learn to swim. You know, spiritually speaking.

You don’t have to ‘look on the bright side’ or ‘focus on the positive.' This is a myth, and often feels forced and childish, in denial of events and issues deeply in need of your passionate attention.

Just stop obsessing on the dark and the bleak. Stop fetishizing doom. Step back from the addictive abyss of incessant dread, and find some stillness.

Note that this does not give you license to numb out and refuse to read any media, engage in any essential discussions, form any opinions whatsoever because you deem yourself too precious and "sensitive." That's merely avoidance, vain self-importance disguised as humility. It''s also bullshit, just your ego being passive-aggressive with the gods. Your rejection of reality, of the harrowing vagaries and difficult beauties of the human condition, is of no service to anyone, particularly yourself.

It is also, of course, unwise to try and take it all on, to try and make sense of everything that's happening, slot it all into reasonable boxes of legitimacy. This way madness lies, along with a crushed spirit. It's also impossible. The gods wish to remind you: The karma of the world is not yours to solve. You gotta learn to navigate.

Here is the most difficult thing you can do, and also the simplest: Get strong and clear and calm – get your manic thoughts and doomsday-obsessed emotions out of the way of your innate divine intelligence – and then watch what emerges, spontaneously, from the innermost heart, your truest Self.

Hint: It ain’t gonna be cruelty. It ain’t gonna be violence. It ain’t gonna be MAGA or guns or racism. Nor, conversely, will it be all-day rainbow bunnies and perky 'it's all good' nonsense.

Sit. Fucking. Still. Get real.

It might not be comfortable. It won’t at all be easy. But it will look shockingly like love.

NR:  Beartown by Fredrik Backman (excellent novel by the author of A Man Called Ove... 💖 )

 

SONG:  Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise by The Avett Brothers

BOOK:  Life Is in the Transitions:  Mastering Change at Any Age by Bruce Feiler  (thanks to AmyB for the heads-up!) 

POEM(S):  it will all be messy for a little while longer by Maya Stein

“I feel a little rough around the edges,” I say to a friend on a video chat, because this is

how it is now. And she replies, “We all are,” though from where I’m standing she looks

beautiful, glowing, a midday California sun arrowing photogenically on her cheekbones,

so I tell her so. She says, “I like you in that blue hat” and “It’s so good to see your face,”

and I think about how much faster we’ve gotten with telling the truth. I hit “record”

again, say something about the latest harvest from our garden, about my mother’s

upcoming visit, and she says something about the date she’ll go on after her

appointment with the therapist. It will all be messy for a little while longer, but we don’t

say any of that. Instead, I pan the camera to a body of water and she says, “Where is

Scott Street?” and we say “I love you” and “Talk soon,” because this is how it is now, too.

We Did Not Ask For This Room by Stephen King

We did not ask for this room,

       or this music;

       we were invited in.

Therefore,

because the dark surrounds us,

       let us turn our faces toward the light.

Let us endure hardship

       to be grateful for plenty.

We have been given pain

       to be astounded by joy.

We have been given life

       to deny death.

We did not ask for this room,

       or this music.

But because we are here,

       let us dance.

QUOTE:  "People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in their true beauty is revealed only if there is light from within.” ~ Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

We Americans (The Avett Brothers)

And the crazy continues! (what else is new, right?!?).  From today's New York Times Daily Briefing (you really should subscribe if you don't already!):

President Trump breaks so many of the normal rules of politics that it can sometimes be hard to know when his tweets and comments are truly newsworthy. Even by his standards, though, the past several days have stood out. Consider:

Trump said on Monday that a plane “almost completely loaded with thugs” wearing “dark uniforms” had been headed to the Republican National Convention to do “big damage.” The claim is similar to a baseless conspiracy theory that spread online over the summer, well before the convention.

He has declined to condemn the killings of two protesters in Kenosha, Wis. He instead defended the 17-year-old charged in the shootings — a Trump supporter named Kyle Rittenhouse — saying he was acting in self-defense. Trump also promoted a Twitter post that called Rittenhouse “a good example of why I decided to vote for Trump.”

He defended violence committed by his supporters in Portland, Ore., who fired paintballs and pepper spray at Black Lives Matter protesters.

He compared the police shooting of Jacob Blake in Kenosha to missing “a three-foot putt” in a golf tournament.

He claimed that “people that you’ve never heard of” and “people that are in the dark shadows” are controlling Joe Biden.

He claimed Democrats were trying to “destroy” suburbs with “low-income housing, and with that comes a lot of other problems, including crime.” He added that Cory Booker — one of the highest-profile Black Democrats — would be “in charge of it.”

He predicted that the stock market would crash if Biden won.

He said that Biden, at the Democratic National Convention, “didn’t even discuss law enforcement, the police. Those words weren’t mentioned.” In fact, Biden held a discussion at the convention on policing, with a police chief.

Trump claimed that he “took control of” the situation in Kenosha by sending in the National Guard. In fact, Wisconsin’s governor, not the president, sent the National Guard.

He retweeted messages asserting that the pandemic’s death toll was overstated. Evidence indicates the opposite is true.

He said that protests against police brutality were actually a secret “coup attempt” by anarchists “trying to take down the President.”

Biden has taken a very different approach to the unrest in Kenosha, Portland and elsewhere. He has told no apparent untruths, and he has criticized violence from both the political left and right — even though many liberals, whose votes Biden needs, are uncomfortable with any criticism of people on their side of the debate.

G.O.P. reaction. The Times tried to reach about a dozen leading congressional Republicans and ask for their reaction to Trump’s claims. “None cared to comment,” Mark Leibovich writes. Senator Mitt Romney offered one of the few public responses, calling the president’s comments “simply jaw-dropping.”


VOTE!  VOTE!  VOTE!  VOTE!

P.S.  I just ordered this mask (above) for myself as well as my husband and three adult children.  Oh, did I say VOTE?... 😏


SONG:  We Americans by The Avett Brothers

BOOK:  A Very Stable Genius: Donald J. Trump's Testing of America by Philip Rucker, Carol Leonnig

POEM:  Third Time's a Charm by David Kirby

Don’t you wish the president would just shut up?
I mean, why comment on everything all the time.
Let’s hear it for silence. Yes, the helicopter of the world
is always circling overhead, but only rarely and usually
never does it suddenly fix its spotlight on the genius
that is you. What does he expect, a chattering dolphin
to rear up in front of his every tweet/answer to
a journalist/remark to a staffer who’s not supposed
to leak it but does and go chee-chee-chee-chee?
Mozart ends The Magic Flute with the words
“Triumphant strength has rewarded beauty and wisdom
with an eternal crown,” but he was Mozart.
Even ordinary jibber-jabber can go too far, as when
you give someone a present and they say
“You didn’t have to do that” and you think, “I know
I didn’t have to, but I wanted to, though I’m having
second thoughts now,” or someone brings a casserole
to your potluck, and you say, “Oh, how lovely,”
and they say, “Yeah, but it’s way salty, plus I left it
in the oven too long,” and you think, “My, doesn’t
that sound delicious!” Actually it was Mozart’s
librettist Emanuel Schikaneder who wrote the end
of The Magic Flute as well as the rest of it, but still.
Doesn’t the president have speech writers?
The divorce firm of Thyden Gross and Callahan
works out of Friendship Village, Maryland (I’m not
making this up) and recently represented a wealthy
Islamic gentleman who invoked the ancient law
of talaq by saying “I divorce thee” three times
to his wife and bestowing the sum of $2,500
on her while retaining the bulk of their two million
dollar estate for himself. The Maryland Court
of Appeals said no, however, stipulating that
the talaq did not afford the same protections
of due process, prenuptial agreements,
and division of property that Maryland law did,
a ruling in which the court is joined by
those Islamic scholars who say it isn’t right to
invoke the talaq in one sitting and that there
should at least be a period of time between
the “three strikes” as well as other learned
devotees of that venerable faith who say
the talaq is reprehensible and shouldn’t be
used at all. Every time the president goes
yada-yada-yada, I wish Mitch McConnell would say,
“I impeach thee, I impeach thee, I impeach thee”
and he’d disappear like the witch in The Wizard
of Oz, and here I’m just referring to the president’s
banal and mendacious utterances and not
the ugly ones like grabbing somebody by their
you-know-what. In this respect he could at least
take lessons in subtlety from 18th century German
writer Georg Christoph Lichtenberg, who said
of the prostitutes he encountered in London
that “they attach themselves to you like limpets”
and “they seize hold of you after a fashion
of which I can give you the best notion by the fact
that I say nothing about it.” Now you’re talking.

[David Kirby, 10/13/19 : “I have misgivings about the current move to impeach. That process is usually used to convince the people that the president is a bad person, but we already know that. Too, I bet this president would be delighted; it’ll just give him another chance to feel sorry for himself. No, I’d prefer that he just go away. That’s called magical thinking, as is this poem’s call for Mitch McConnell to do the deed.”]

QUOTE:  "When you blame others, you give up your power to change." ~ Robert Anthony

Tell the Truth (The Avett Brothers)

Snippets of my reflections and musings in a recent e-conversation with a dear friend:

"Thanks for sharing your dear and honest feelings.  Words seem to have more import these days, and I walk the fine line between squashing my feelings and oversharing them. A self-imposed introspection is a good thing, although sometimes for me it turns into a Pandora's Box.

Reality checks are hard, especially now, because what is "reality", anyway?!?  When you think about it, we are really *all* on our own right now, regardless of whether we have our life partners living with us. [cue Psycho music here].  Expectations should be lowered, if not eliminated (easier said than done, I know), focusing on patience and kindness instead.  Yes, blessings abound if we put all this in perspective. 

Emotions are hair-trigger these days, and maybe OK is okay.  Should we need more than that from ourselves and each other?  As the old mom joke goes, "if my children are alive at the end of the day, I have done my job."  Maybe our new life goal could be, "if my friends are still speaking to me, and I to them, I am surviving the pandemic."  What can we all do to get to the ommmm, and stay there? (most of the time, anyway).

I am telling this to myself, too, as little things that didn't used to bother me now have the tendency to send me into a spiral, which is always downward.  Working on "no big deal", "whatever", "just for today" (channeling Frozen's Let It Go...  :-)

I am well aware that I can be bossy, over-sensitive, and a know-it-all.  That is the authentic *me*, and I am grateful for your patience, understanding, and love over the years.  We have given so much to each other, and we still have so much to offer in the future.  I do know we most hurt, and are hurt by, the people we love.  I am reminded of the Dar lyric from The Ocean:  "And the ones that can know you so well are the ones that can swallow you whole."  That is also happening with my family right now, and it is chiseling away at my attempts at peace, sanity, balance.

[Please forgive me.  I've been bingewatching In Treatment, and all of a sudden I am a therapist! ] "


MISSION STATEMENT: CLOSER THAN TOGETHER - Seth Avett (Summer 2019)

The last thing the world needs is another piece of sociopolitical commentary. We, as a species that boasts at least some semblance of consciousness, are entering an odd new form of fatigue: one that encompasses not only our observance of the behavior of others (nefarious and otherwise), but also our seemingly unlimited endurance to loudly judge and wax philosophically about it. Of course, in each instance, regardless of its nature or circumstance, our own personal opinions are presented as the clear, correct, and only perspective on any given subject. We speak as if we are not one body, though we are. We judge as if we don’t value the judgment of others upon us, though we do. We forget to put our feet into the shoes of our neighbor, and curse them for making the same ancient mistake.

My brother and I have never been more aware of our own failings in the department of golden-rule navigation. We see it in ourselves and we are accustomed to seeing it in our neighborhood, our state, our country, our planet. We speak daily with each other about the lunacy of the world in which we live… the beauty of it, the mystery of it, the hilarity and the unspeakable calamity of it. We talk about God and community and evil and what forgiveness is and what it means to aim for unconditional love in a land (and body) full of conditions. Sometimes we feel better just from speaking about it with a loved one. Sometimes we don’t and we go to our little bunks on the tour bus and continue to process the latest example of fear-inducing news that our phones have indiscriminately handed us. We then simultaneously endeavor to forgive ourselves for being in the fortunate position of having bunks in a tour bus to lie down on. In whatever way we process both personal and universally-affecting events, at some point, these conversations grow melodies and find themselves stepping back into our lives in the forms of songs.

As our records tend to be, the newest - entitled ‘Closer Than Together’ - is certainly led by the personal narrative of our own lives. In this way, there is no massive departure from our continued artistic language. This chapter however, perhaps in part because of our age or our time, wanders inevitably into hallways both social and political. These are songs developed through and inspired by not only what we see inside our homes and our travels, but by the connections we are blessed to nourish, the conversations by which we are surprised and intrigued, and by the far-reaching experiences of our distant brothers and sisters. We are family men with good and evil in our hearts, and the pains and joys in this world are mirrored on the small scale of our own personal existence. The songs herein are reflections of what we are. ‘We’ meaning Scott and me. ‘We’ meaning this family and this band. ‘We’ meaning the strangers we’ve had (and will have) the honor of encountering all over the world. ‘We’ meaning ‘We the People'.

We didn’t make a record that was meant to comment on the sociopolitical landscape that we live in. We did, however, make an album that is obviously informed by what is happening now on a grander scale all around us... because we are a part of it and it is a part of us. ‘Closer Than Together’ is a record of obvious American origin - a creation that fittingly could only come about through hard work, measured freedom, awe-inspiring landscapes, and perfectly flawed individualism.

The Avett Brothers will probably never make a sociopolitical record. But if we did, it might sound something like this.

SONG:  Tell the Truth by The Avett Brothers

BOOK:  Tell the Truth, Let the Peace Fall Where it May: How Authentic Living Creates the Passion, Fulfillment & Love You Seek by Bryan Reeves

POEM:  weights and measures by Maya Stein

The density of the pause between the conversation in your mind and the one
in the room. The aperture separating an obstacle from a gift. The margin between
optimism and regret. The bridge from what was broken to what will be birthed
from brokenness. The unit of breath between “You're wrong” and “I’m sorry.” The rate
of resistance that transmutes love into loneliness. The width of floorboards 
between desire and courage. The volume of patience before the leap and after.
The milligrams of joy between snow and snowshoes. The thickness of falsehoods
until the truth. The fistfuls of hope after despair. The filaments of salt that presage tears.
The folds in the curtain between asleep and alive. The gravity of the hand you take
and the one you give.

QUOTE:  "Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned." ~ Buddha

High Steppin' (The Avett Brothers)

[ Thanks so much to my friend MegHS for this picture!  She knew how much I loved the one of the Boston Common ducklings wearing pussy hats a few years ago, and this was a very thoughtful share...  :-) ]

Emotions are running high, with family as well as friends and, when the going gets tough, the tough go into roly-poly mode... except that yesterday I needed groceries and had vowed not to step foot in a store until all this is over.  I've been talking about using Instacart and finally signed up ($99 annual fee; peace of mind priceless).  Placed two orders, one for our household and one for my friend R (a snowbird who is "stuck" here until things are improved enough for her to go home to Maryland).  The process is easy-peasy, choosing items from the Publix website to add to your cart (they even give you a heads-up when something is BOGO, so you can add the second item to qualify). The app tells you when your shopper is in the store, what they suggest as a replacement (if your first choice is not available), when they are checking out, and when they are on the way to your home.  Instacart adds a 5% tip (which goes to the shopper) to the credit card you have on file, and Googling the process recommends adding another 5% in cash at the door (gladly).  This is a gamechanger!  Lysa was amazing.  She made substitutions where necessary, was so nice, and complimented us on our healthy eating, despite the Wise chips variety pack (I give my husband the non-vegan ones) and the Sweet Lorens cookie dough on the list!  We are stocked up for at least another two weeks.

Confession that, in addition to the earrings I bought a few weeks ago on Amazon, I also purchased The newest Avett Brothers CD, Closer Than Together, and the round-trip of delivering R's groceries was the perfect time to give it a listen.  Wow!  I could probably use each and every song as a title for the next 12 blog posts (is that a challenge, Susan?).  I segued from sniffling to welling to full-out weeping.  I enjoyed an all-Avett-Brothers Spotify playlist on my walk yesterday afternoon, and my legs were already twitching to pound the pavement, especially to such thoughtful music.

P.S.  Whenever I am on my way to pick up (for a music- or food-related outing), or drop off something, I always text R that I am "crossing Cleary" (the main street near her home) to let her know I am close.  She suggested we write a song with that title.  It could very well happen...  :-)

SONG:  High Steppin' by The Avett Brothers

BOOK:  Make Way for Ducklings 75th Anniversary Edition by Robert McCloskey

POEM:  When Giving Is All We Have by Alberto Ríos

                                              One river gives
                                              Its journey to the next.

We give because someone gave to us.
We give because nobody gave to us.

We give because giving has changed us.
We give because giving could have changed us.

We have been better for it,
We have been wounded by it—

Giving has many faces: It is loud and quiet,
Big, though small, diamond in wood-nails.

Its story is old, the plot worn and the pages too,
But we read this book, anyway, over and again:

Giving is, first and every time, hand to hand,
Mine to yours, yours to mine.

You gave me blue and I gave you yellow.
Together we are simple green. You gave me

What you did not have, and I gave you
What I had to give—together, we made

Something greater from the difference.

QUOTE:  "To enjoy good health, to bring true happiness to one's family, to bring peace to all, one must first discipline and control one's own mind. If a man can control his mind he can find the way to Enlightenment, and all wisdom and virtue will naturally come to him." ~ Buddha