CAN-it

As much as I admire our new President, I'm unsure whether to watch his address to the nation tonight.  Why?  Because I'm sick and tired of hearing  what a horrible crisis we're in, how the country is facing unprecedented challenges, how we all need to pull together to avoid a national disaster.

I'm certainly not blaming Mr. Obama for this situation, or  for all the negative vibrations circulating through the atmosphere.   This mess was handed to him on a lovely silver platter (mostly courtesy of the Bush family and their Republican relatives).  I am, however, pointing a big, fat finger at the news media which has been feasting  like a school of hungry sharks on the current economic downturn.  The spirit of this nation is at a mighty low ebb, and every television, newspaper, and radio station seems to have made keeping us there the top priority.   Even commercials aren't immune...have you seen the Target commerical offering do-it-yourself alternatives for everything from pedicures to pet grooming? Sure, go ahead and DIY...put all the nail techs and pet groomers out of work too.

While I'm not downplaying the very real troubles the nation faces, I am exhorting the media to take responsibility for improving morale rather than continue to beat us all with the "dire straits" stick.   It has become exceedingly clear exactly how much power the media wields in this nation, and with power comes responsibility to use it for good.  Does the continual barrage of bad news really serve the national interest?   Could we begin to focus on some positive outcomes?    How about using all those collective  smarts to come up with some ideas for creating new jobs and industry?

Frankly, every time I hear a tag line which includes the words "national economic crisis" or asks "has American seen better days?" I feel my stomach start churning.  Defeatist jargon and alarmist rhetoric will get us nothing but a nationwide epidemic of ulcers.

Just this week, I've seen a few new stories about the booming movie business here in Detroit.  Several new productions houses are in the works, huge ground floor up facilities, that will require the labor of  designers, contractors, electricians, not to mention food crews and housing facilities.  Today's Detroit News had a (teeny tiny) front page story announcing that Detroit was listed as one of the top 12 cities in which to make a film.  

There's some good news for this old town, folks.  

There has to be some more of that out there somewhere. 

Of course, it's easier for the media to capitalize on all the gloom and doom.  There are plenty of people only too willing to talk about it, whether it's affected them personally or not.   

 I'm proposing we band together as "Citizens Against Negativity", and tell them to CAN-it.   Until they do, I'm declaring a moratorium on reading/listening/watching any news programming. 

When it comes to using the power of the media, we CAN DO a lot better than this.

Postscript:  I did watch Obama's speech last night, and was rewarded once again by his erudition and elegance.   I was pleased that he referred to other times in American history when the country has faced greater challenges and risen above them thanks to ingenuity and imagination.  We need to be reminded of that.  Let the rest of the media take a lesson. 

Birthday Boy

              ~Wishing a very special  boy  man a very special day!

Today my son celebrates his 29th birthday, and though he's living in Thailand right now I suspect the day will still involve some of his favorite homestyle things...good food, some "down" time to spend with his family, more good food, time playing computer games, some good food, maybe an evening at the movies, followed by even more good food...

Birthdays should be all about celebrating, and I hope his day is as wonderful as he is!

                                     ~ Happy Birthday, Brian!~

At Random...

Today's threatened promised snowstorm has finally begun, and, having made plans to spend part of the day cleaning out badly cluttered cupboards in my kitchen and bathroom, I thought it behooved me to clear some thoughts which have been gathering dust in the corner of my mind.  So, here goes...

When the school year began, I was a bit concerned about my dearth of opportunities to make music, fearful of becoming an office drone with not enough outlet for my creative energy.  Well, as my mother often tells me, be careful what you wish for.   Last week I was out for rehearsals four of five nights.  During the course of February, I'll have played (either piano or handbells) at three different church's (none of them my own).  Plus, several weeks ago, I agreed to accompany the high school choir for the remainder of their year.  And while part of me is loathe to admit that I've returned to this old ground once again (for the third time!), there's another part that has been energized by my association with these young people and their bright, excited  instructor.   One of the reasons I left this position, aside from scheduling concerns, was that I felt the need to move on in my music, try some different opportunites.  I've been able to do that, thanks to a former student who is directing a musical at a local community theater group and invited me to accompany for them.  Working with these adults has been an interesting and rewarding experience. 

What I've learned the past few weeks is that even though I'm extremely busy with all this, I feel less tired and dragged out than during the fall when I was home every night.  It shouldn't surprise me- playing music effects me like taking a handfull of amphetimines.  I worry less, I eat less, I write more, and I'm happier overall, when I'm actively engaged in this work that I love. 

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My work life is about to become much less stressful, with the return of my former assistant and partner.  K., who left our company two years ago to work full time at a big insurance agency, decided to come back to our little group, and Tuesday was her first day.  During the time she was away  the scope of work in my department enlarged (while the personnel shrank!)  In essence, I was the only one shouldering the majority of the department's work.  Indeed, I was the only one in the company who even knew how to do much of this work!  A huge responsibility, especially for one who is only supposed to be part time (20 hours/week) and one who has a second home in a sunny, southern state.  I am now officially freed from the burden of indispensability.

Big sigh of relief.

Perhaps now I can begin to move on with some of the personal,creative projects which keep flashing in my brain...things like another blog (or even two!)...a new novel project...

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If all this sounds like my life is manic, believe me, sometimes I think that myself.  Because stuffed in between the work, and the rehearsals, and the writing projects, are a husband and two dogs, as well as an elderly mom, aunt and uncle who require assistance in varying degrees.  (Although truthfully, my mother is probably more help to me than I am to her, what with all the dog-sitting and meal preparation she does.)  

So I take full advantage of days like this one, when it's snowing outside and I have no place to go. I look forward to them, in fact, these "snow days," when I can happily read, write, potter around the house, maybe even cook dinner myself for a change.   It's a nice change of pace from the daily busy-ness.

And on that note, I'm off to enjoy the remainder of the day.

But before I go... have any cobwebs you'd like to clear from your mind?  Stray thoughts are welcome here anytime!

Indulgence

I want God to play in my bloodstream the way sunlight amuses itself on the water.  (from Eat, Pray, Love, by Elizabeth Gilbert)

"Indulgent."  That's what Simon Cowell would say about that sentiment and the way it was written.  He uses the term to censure American Idol contestants who choose to sing songs with some great personal meaning, instead of attempting to present something the audience will understand.

I've been re-reading Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert's very popular memoir about her own epic spiritual journey, and I suppose you could consider the entire affair a bit self-indulgent.  Really, how many people have the opportunity to spend a year abroad - four months each of pleasure seeking in Italy, spirit seeking in India, and heaven seeking in Indonesia - completely funded (with the stipulation that you'll write a book about the experience) by one's publisher ?

 Gilbert's writing is fun to read (hence the re-read, I guess). She's never pedantic, and in fact has a wicked sense of humor about herself and her journey.  And she definitely has a knack for pulling the reader into her world of the moment.  During the past few days, I've had a definite craving for pasta, and have to bite my tongue to keep from calling out "Ciao!" when I leave the room.

But now I've followed her to the ashram in India, where she's attempting to get her spiritual house in order.  And though our situations couldn't be more different, her spiritual quest strikes its own chord with me.

I wasn't raised in The Church, although I occasionally went to my aunt's little Baptist church, but I was never very fond of the church- going experience.   I always felt a bit like an imposter, because I wanted to buy into the concept of God but somehow couldn't quite get it.  As an adult, I began attending church regularly almost 20 years ago, but I'll confess that the main impetus for my attendance is the sense of community I've developed.   That, and playing music.

I don't find God at church. 

In fact, if I were to say I feel close to God, feel the power of a Divine entity, it would be much more likely to happen standing before a sparkling clear lake, where the sunlight "amuses itself" on the face of the water, sparkling like a kazillion diamonds.  Or walking in the park near my house on a bright summer morning, letting the dogs run free in the valley, a soft breeze rippling our hair and caressing our cheeks.

But like Elizabeth Gilbert, I long to feel that true spiritual connection with God, yes, the one they used to talk about in the Baptist church.  I long for that promised metamorphosis when you "let Jesus come into your heart."

 "I'm tired of being a skeptic, I'm irritated by spiritual prudence and I feel bored and parched by empirical debate," Gilbert writes.  "I don't want to hear it anymore.  I couldn't care less about evidence and proof and assurances.  I just want God.  I want God inside me. " 

"I want God to play in my bloodstream the way sunlight amuses itself on the water."

Indulgent?  Perhaps.

In the Christian calendar, we're coming upon the season of Lent, the period of time before Christ's betrayal and crucifixion.  The darkest time in the history of Christendom, when the sins of mankind were heaped on Christ's shoulders.  During this period, it's customary (indeed, it's de riguer  for some) Christians  to "give up" something - to make a pertinent sacrifice to remind them of Christ's ultimate sacrifice.   I grew up in a very Catholic neighborhood, and clearly remember my friends having major discussions about what was right and proper to sacrifice for the season.  Naturally there were the jokesters who tried to give up washing dishes or doing homework...of course that didn't fly.  You had to relinquish something you really loved -  if the sacrifice didn't hurt, it didn't count. 

It's all I can do to drag myself to church during Lent.  I dread the focus on doom and gloom, the dirge like hymns whose poetry is dark and despairing.  I hate the refrains about betrayal and death, of pain and suffering.  On Sunday mornings, I want nothing more than to stay in bed drinking coffee and eating some sinfully delicious pastry.

"But then there's Easter!" my friend Millie said to me once, when I complained about the concept of Lent.  "That's the reward for all the sorrow!"

Fooey.  I don't want to be reminded that life is filled with sorrow, and that sometimes only suffering can fully enable us to experience pure joy.  I don't want my face buried in six weeks of sadness, just so I can have the light for one day.

Indulgent? Probably.

But in order to make it through the next six weeks, I think I'll need to indulge myself.

Write On Wednesday

Write on Wednesday is revived...a new prompt awaits.