"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.
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
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
