Your Love Song is My Battle Cry

There are some people you meet in life who inspire you to be a better person simply because they exist. Jens was one of those people, as is his brother George.

As George's friend I came to know Jens in parallel. Jens and George were not their given names, only what they called themselves when they were young. And actually, it was Jens Peter, pronounced Yens Pay-tuh. That is an amusing story in and of itself, but right now it's not important. Besides, it is not my story to tell.

He was an amazing human, Jens was. Kind, sweet, thoughtful, and gentle, but sufficiently manly. The kind of guy mortal men wish to be. To my observation Jens had life pretty much all figured out. He was unflappable, always even-keeled. It just seemed like Jens was rarely ruffled by the twists and turns of life.

I understand that people often act differently in various situations, but in my interactions with Jens he always appeared to take everything in stride. In truth, Jens often seemed rather amused by the ups and downs that come with living on this planet. The smiling twinkle in his eye when confronted with some obstacle or challenge conveyed something along the lines of, "Oh, this is happening? Let's do this!"

As we do when we reminisce about our friends who have gone away too soon, I could go on and on about Jens. I will readily admit that as an only child I have often idealized friends and friends' siblings simply because I lacked my own. Let's just say that George's older brother was definitely the kind of big brother I would have wanted if I'd had one. That's not the point of this story, though, but it should say something about Jens' character.

I was an idiot twenty-five years ago. I was in my early twenties, a time when we're all convinced we know so much and yet have such a tiny grasp on what it all actually means. In retrospect, I was exceedingly clueless about so many things! I was learning to negotiate the world and Jens inadvertantly gifted me with a kernel of knowledge about perspective and grace.

Jens was getting married. He asked me to team up with his friend Tatum* and sing during the ceremony. At the time, I was definitely not wedding singer material. I was in a loud and aggressive band, but I was also a closet acoustic singer/songwriter type. I had become obsessed with Bob Marley and was learning some (way too many) of his songs. I had just learned No Woman, No Cry**. We met up at Tatum's apartment. After a few pleasantries and a bite to eat we got to work.

"We have a couple songs in mind, but do you have any suggestions?" Jens asked.

"Sure," I said, knowing I was ready. I remember feeling that it was like kismet or magic that I had just learned the most inspirational, touching song I knew at the time. "Let me play you No Woman and see what you think." Jens smiled politely.

In my mind, this was a song that was uplifting. It was an ode to women. To me, No Woman, No Cry was a song that reminds us that together we can get through anything in this world. In short, this was a song of encouragement, the strength of womanhood, of love and, maybe marriage, perhaps more. To me, it was the perfect song. It's got the whole notion of for better or worse baked right in. I mean, the refrain is "everything's gonna be all right" for crying out loud! Again, I thought it would be perfect.

At least that's how I saw it.

I sang my heart out, wringing emotion out of every note in the melody. As I remember, Tatum sang along, adding a nice harmony. Jens listened, smiling appreciatively. When I finished, I felt like I'd given one of the greatest performances of my life.

"Wow! That was great," Jens said. "You really did that song justice."

"Thanks," I said. Jens kind of chuckled to himself and took a sip of beer 

"Wonderful work," he said after a moment. "But I don't know if it's the right fit," Jens replied. It was then that Jens taught me a fundamental fact about art appreciation, particularly in terms of song lyric interpretation.

Evidently, Jens was not single when he met the woman he was about to marry. He was so taken with her that he immediately set about figuring out how to break up with his then-girlfriend. In his kind-hearted manner, he needed some extra support to let her down easy. The solution for Jens was to turn to some musical inspiration. He listened to one particular song over and over all night long. I'm sure, by now, you can guess which song helped Jens muster the fortitude to end his relationship.

"You can see why we might not want to have you sing that song, right?" Jens said.

Of course, I understood completely, but meanwhile my mind was blown. A song I saw as an ode to women and perseverance was the ultimate breakup song for Jens. Now that I am grown-ish, it is such an obvious notion that we all see things differently, but at that point in my young life I hadn't given it much thought. Jens really opened my eyes that day. He helped me appreciate how we can all have different perspectives and still get along. And he did it with such kindness and finesse, never crushing my enthusiasm or undermining my passion.

I am grateful that I was lucky enough to know him for a time. We lost touch as the years progressed, as you often do in life. I regret that after George's wedding a few years later we never again crossed paths before he passed. Yet this memory and a few others we shared shaped me in ways I couldn't have imagined at the time. I know I am a better person just for knowing him. He taught me that what is a love song for some may be a war song for others. You just never know.

12-31-19

*Not her real name.

**The history of this song is another story in itself!

Most Precious Gems

When you decide to go and move seven hundred sixty-nine miles away, a return visit to the old home state is a gift of faces you've not seen nearly enough or nearly as often as you'd like. Yet there are time constraints and invariably not enough time. Schedules conflict and prevent reunion or the moment is simply fleeting, perhaps a quick handshake or hug that fills up the heart when a lengthy conversation is impossible. But it is all these moments, however brief, crammed into so few hours that mean the most when you tromp back over the horizon and feel the indifferent jabs of loneliness pierce your psyche during the sleepless nights that come more than you'd like to admit. It is then that the sweetest memories and moments unfurl like a flickering reel from an old movie projector in your mind and provide a semblance of peace.

Afterall, it is moments that bring us together and make a lasting impact on the trajectories of our lives. And these moments are few.

You know the ones, the fun times, the shared times, the times that make for friendships you never imagined. All the times that result in stories that we laugh at later, even though they may have been incredibly trying to our souls or excruciatingly horrible at the time. The more life-threatening, jaw-dropping, or revolting the better!

In life, the moments that seem so awful when they are happening usually end up being the most memorable, or at least noteworthy, later on, especially when they are shared with family or friends. Let us not forget the occasional workplace misery shared with co-workers, (co-conspirators one and all), eye-rolling and exchanging inside jokes at the back of the meeting. These are your people! They help make life great.

These folks are the ones you miss the most. They are the ones you try to honor with your deeds as you move onto a new path, out into a world where you seldom see those old faces. Sure, you'll have new stories to tell, eventually, but it'll take some time. So, (and I know I'm repeating myself here), these moments are few. They may be small, seemingly insignificant moments in life, but they matter most. If you can cringe while you laugh about it as time goes on, then you have succeeded.

No one laughs about those times you followed all the rules. No one tells stories about the time everything went smoothly. We talk about the remarkable moments, the surprising moments, the moments full of groans and exasperation, the moments that are full of calamity and panic. These are the times we are thinking of when we double over and roll around on the floor in uncontrollable laughter. If we are lucky, hilarity ensues when we talk about all those dumpster fires we have lived through. The best stories, the ones worth retelling, are usually about gigantic and magnificent lapses in judgement.

We don't talk about the times we head home early and get a good night's rest. We talk about the fact that we're lucky to be alive and how absolutely shocking it is that no one got (permanently) hurt! If we are fortunate enough to live through our mistakes we learn from them and they become our badges of pride. These moments become our experiential honorary degrees of life lived to the fullest. These are the moments that make for the stories we tell over and over. At the very least, these moments crack us up and that's not nothing.

They are rare, these moments. In the grand scheme of things there's not much worth taking seriously, but these short moments should be.

12-27-19

Sutra for the Pessimistically Optimistic

Wherever I go,

There I am,

But a change of scenery is life-altering.

Literally.

I can't change time,

But I can get up earlier.

I can't change someone's tune,

But I can play a different song.

I can't change which way the wind blows,

But I can change course.

I can't do anything about everything that is wrong in the world,

Because that is insane,

But I can make change.

I can't change people's minds,

But I can change my shoes.

So,

I think I'll go for a run.

12-18-19

When We Dare to Cross the Stars

In some future, after we nearly annihilate ourselves for the seventh or eighth time we may just grow beyond our petty differences and finally, once and for all, learn to cooperate in the interest of our species and planet. Wouldn't that be swell?

In this new spirit of collaboration, we may just learn to focus our untapped energies and vast intelligence in a way that will allow us to figure out how to visit distant parts of our solar system, our galaxy, and the far-flung universe. It will surely be a new and bold era for the human animal. It is exactly the kind of moment that makes us so prone to believing our own hype. Mastering space travel will be just the kind of moment that gives us inflated egos and allows us to presume that we are somehow masters of all the realms. Again.

To be fair, in the past we have often considered this planet to be our own personal sandbox. Wherever we have gone we have shaped and cajoled and generally done as we've pleased without regard for why, or if, we should. We have rarely asked the permission of the colonized if we could come ashore and start mixing it up. If we dare to leave this planet and travel through space, crossing galaxies to distant stars, it really will be a daring risk worthy of admiration, even if it is self admiration. At that time, how could we not look upon our future creation as anything but marvelous and maybe preordained in some way? It would be easy to assume we are the top of the heap. Of course, we would be wrong.

With a little luck, this great future human moment will be a much greater success than merely taming physics and jet propulsion. In that moment we will harness our greatest strengths, abandon our most glaring weaknesses, and step into the role of intergalactic ambassadors. We will absolutely have to work together. This will be an endeavor requiring complete dedication and effort from all of humanity. We will need to quell our raging egos. It will require us to think and act altruistically.

But, I mean, let's be honest, a lot has to happen before then. This is assuming that we don't completely obliterate ourselves and our safe-ish little home, which is even right now, hurtling precariously through space. Let's just agree that there are a lot of moving parts. This is also arrogantly assuming that we will be the first to cross the stars. There's just as much likelihood that we will be visited by some technologically advanced species before then. If that be the case, one can optimistically hope they will regard us kindly and treat us gently, like a favored lapdog. (Pessimistically, of course, there is a not un-large fear that an alien visit would result in what could only be described as a certain kind of karmic equalization.)

All that aside, when we go, and knowing humans as I think I do, we will go, (given the opportunity and proper motivation, as well as the actual technological advances this necessitates), we will need some guiding mission statement. We will require a set of agreed upon norms to help us navigate not only the vast distances of space, but also the (hopefully) inevitable interactions with other intelligent beings. It is necessary that we shall not venture forth until we have some very sound laws or principles governing our behavior and exploratory adventures.

Essentially, what I'm saying, I think, is that we can't just cavalierly strut onto the surface of another planet and bend the inhabitants to our will. (I mean, unless that's our thing, which, come to think of it, the sweep of our history kind of leads one down that path... Hmm?)

I believe we will be a better species by then. We will have to be, if we are to learn anything from the previous seven or eight near-annihilations we will have lived through by then! We will have a better sense of how to build a world that values everyone. We will know that imposing our demands on others rarely works for long. We will have learned, by the grace of all the gods, how to care for Earth's flora and fauna as though it were an extension of ourselves, because it is. We will have to understand that trying to trade a few glass beads for an entire planetary body just ain't going to cut it this time! The colonizers of the past are no example. We will have to be at an elevated level of intelligence by then.

Or Heaven help us!

So, that is why, even as we are generations away from this potentiality, I offer my own two cents to sort of get the ball rolling. Who knows how long it will take to come to some sort of agreement on how to interact with intelligent life on other planets. In short, we need ground rules for whatever ground we touchdown upon. Afterall, no matter what we want to believe, the universe is not our personal oyster ripe for the shucking!

More importantly, as we prepare to make this leap we will (eventually) no longer identify as Earthlings for this will surely be a one way trip. We will have need to stay in touch with what makes us human. As we venture beyond the limits of our imaginations, forever severing the bonds that tie us to this planet, our humanity will be the only thing we have left. Hopefully it will suffice. I'm not sure what these guidelines will be called, but I am calling them:

The Interstellar Travelers and Expeditionary Laws on Encountering Planetary Life

1. Be not a conqueror, but tread lightly as a friend.

2. Stand not in judgment, but seek knowledge and understanding.

3. Act not to exploit, but to trade fairly with other worlds.

4. Remember that it costs nothing to be kind.

5. Always keep in mind that advanced technology is not a license for subjugation or oppression.

6. Give no pretense of divinity, but act with humility as a mortal should.

These are just a start. Not a bad batch of ideas in my opinion. One could even adapt and apply them to our interactions here on Earth while we wait for our rockety future. Sure couldn't hurt!

See you after the next cataclysm.

12-13-19

#17,435

The clock is always running,

As it was before,

And will be evermore.

And these priceless few,

Fleeting moments each,

All that we will get.

The overwhelming mystery,

Possible surprise endings,

Hanging over our heads,

Just out of reach,

Like some perpetual Damoclesian horror.

Yet,

We consciously conscientious beasts,

Rather than embracing finitude,*

Choose instead to forget.

We ignore the warning signs,

Pretending immortality,

Wrapped up in our daily functions,

As if they mean anything at all.

We should,

Instead,

Unravel our souls,

To revel in the beauty that surrounds us.

We should stop for one single second,

And know,

Feel,

Hear.

There is love extending and reflecting,

Between us all,

Endless opportunity to make right now,

This moment,

The only one that counts.

Because what else is there?

12-6-19

*It's a word. Really.