07 9 / 2014
05 9 / 2014
"The experience of life is we fall down, we get dirty, we get bruised - we can’t see, we see again - we come in and out of clarity and confusion, but always there is this incorruptible spot of grace and it is our home - it’s where our soul speaks to us - it’s our nest. We journey out and we journey back."
… and what a journey. So bang on. Life isn’t linear. There’s seldom a clear or direct path. Or a right or wrong path for that matter. It’s far more fluid than that - especially within ourselves and how we think and feel.
"we must move forward, not backward; upward, not forward; and always twirling, twirling, twirling towards freedom!"
Silly aside aside, I can’t help relating to the notion above about there being things in our lives and in ourselves that center us, that bring clarity, and that incorruptible grace. Our nests.
For me, work circumstances made proper holidays difficult to plan for this summer, but I made a point to sneak a couple long weekends in around concerts to help give myself little sanity breaks.
In so doing, I may have found my nest. Right under my nose.
Surrounded by a few thousand of my favourite strangers, watching a band make noise and unconsciously letting them and the experience assume control of my body as I move to the music. After a few of these weekends this summer, it finally dawned on me how important these events are and have been without my understanding.
There’s nothing that recharges, reinvigorates, or re-inspires me quite like that feeling. Being attuned with music, lost in a moment, removed from myself and my thinking and analyzing. Embracing the random, to let go, to find joy… and clarity.
More and more, music is a nest. It’s not a thing or a place. It can be everywhere when I remember to bring it with me and let it in. Whether in a crowd, on a quiet walk with ears full of sound, farting around on the bass, or just humming along to myself. Or yes, even sitting in crowded airports, planes, trains, buses and the like.
It’s a hobby. A distraction. An addiction. A release. But more importantly, it’s where my soul speaks with me without noise.
It’s where I journey when I need it most. I need to journey more. Just need to remember some tunes for the road. ;)
11 8 / 2014
"I know a lot of creative people and perhaps by correlation I know a lot of people who struggle with depression. They have told me (and they’ve told the world) how depression sits there, implacable, and drains the color out of the world until no success or joy matters. I believe them, and it becomes increasingly evident that no matter who you are or what you’ve achieved, that depression is a good liar and can make you believe none of it matters.
I know and love too many people with depression to believe that it’s something that’s shameful to talk about or to acknowledge. I want them alive and I want them here with us. If you have depression I want you alive and here with us. Don’t let the moment take you. Don’t be afraid to get help. The people who love you want you here. Believe it."
13 7 / 2014
There’s no place like home. Click three times.
Only now, there is no place like home.
On the road for over a month now. Nearly half a year, separated. For 5 months, living out of a suitcase, rolling from planes, trains, and automobiles to freshly turned-down beds and third-world WIFI.
Long week behind, coming to the place where I used to hang my hat, but Home doesn’t feel like itself anymore.
I’m in a house that I own
But it doesn’t feel like home
My name may be on this place’s paperwork, but it feels more like a hotel than the hotel.
Home is where the heart is. Mine is most certainly lost. If only clicking of heels could bring that feeling back.
09 5 / 2014