from sessions in the balcony: the list

There are times when I need to listen to something soft. I need to find the right music and pipe it to my ears to clear my head. I take a deep breath and I exhale. Like now for example. As I write to you, I am listening to a soft instrumental.  I began with something from Jimi Hendrix.  I listened to Valleys of Neptune, to be exact.

I view music the way a connoisseur would view a fine wine. Some moods require a certain flavor. Tonight, would be a night for a deep red. I feel the need for something slow and easy. Something smooth. Something that warms the mind.
I chose something from Jerry Garcia (I picked Love Scene Improvisations Volumes 1-4 from the soundtrack to Zabriskie Point). And like the perfect glass of a fine wine, these songs did the trick.

I have resigned to the fact that I cannot and will not understand many things in this lifetime. Perhaps some of these things are not meant to be understood.
To name some, I started to write a list of things I could never understand. The list began lighthearted because it was triggered by something lighthearted—but then it turned into something with more depth.

First on the list was Crocs. This is what started the thought process. And by Crocs, I do not mean crocodiles. They are an ugly shoe. And yet, people wear them. I hate Crocs, but I know people who love them. I never understood why. I feel the same way about Ugg boots too.

The second thought was an old thought. This came from my younger less responsible days. We used to sit around, baked, with bloodshot eyes and laugh about everything. Then one of us, and by us, I mean one of my knucklehead friends or myself, would blurt out the same question while laughing with a slight bit of drool dangling from the mouth.
“Why do people park on the driveway and drive on the parkway?”

We laughed about this question. We laughed, not because it was funny. The humor is lost pretty quickly with jokes like this. However, added ingredients such as  gravity bongs helped the question keep its humor. Actually, enough use of gravity bongs could literally make almost anything funny.

I don’t use gravity bongs anymore—or any bongs for that matter.
I still wonder why the words we choose have so many meanings, but seldom do they mean what we really want to say.

Why do we say one thing and mean another?
Why do we tell people to go when we really want them to stay?
Why do we sabotage ourselves?
Why do we sabotage others?
Are we that afraid of falling behind or being left out?

Why are we attracted to the wrong things? For example, is it true that good girls like bad boys? And afterwards, after their life has become seasoned with poor choices, so to speak, are they still good girls after their hearts are broken? Because if so, then why do they feel so tainted or impure?
Or, do they automatically become bad girls and attract the nice guys that always finish last?

I understand there are answers to all of these questions. There have been countless books written on these topics, and articles too. But books and articles give answers that only apply to our intellect, and most times, intellect has little to do with emotion . . .

Next on my list, I started to think about the dark. As a kid, I was petrified of the dark. I was afraid of monsters under my bead. I called them the “Feetie Monsters.” Each night when I would go to sleep, I wrapped the blankets around my legs and tucked them beneath my feet. This way, the Feetie Monsters could never pull me under.

I am a grown man now. I still have many fears that I keep to myself. I still have many reasons why I tuck the blankets beneath my feet and hope that nothing pulls me under.
As for the dark, I say it isn’t so scary. The dark is not a scary thing at all. It’s the fear of what may be in it. That’s what scares me—it’s the fear of the unknown.

Why are we so afraid of what we cannot see?
Are we really that threatened?

I compare a dark room to the nature of doubt and disbelief. I see darkness as a roomful of questions and insecurity.
Questions like, how do I look to other people?
How do people see me?
Or worse . . .
Am I really as awkward as I think I am?

Why do I always seek the flesh too validate my spirit, because if the spirit is one’s true source of light, then why won’t I open my eyes long enough to see the brilliance of my own?

I have learned that awareness comes with time. I consider myself to be aware, but I still ask myself the age old question sometimes.
“What the hell was I thinking?”

I never intended to learn life’s unintended lessons. I never asked to have detailed understanding of depression or drug addiction and alcoholism. I never asked for my downfalls or shortcomings. I never asked to be the height I am or this weight. I never meant to hurt the ones I loved or to love the ones that never loved me back.

There are things I cannot understand and there are things I will never understand. As well, there are lessons I never knew were important. Lessons like the right and wrong way to put toilet paper on the toilet paper holder. I never knew this was an issue. I was always happy to have toilet paper to begin with, let alone, be angry whether the toilet paper rolls down from the top, or it pulls from under the bottom.

I am sure there will be more lessons I learn along the way.
Anyway, the music is over now.

I think I might go with Beethoven next.
Moonlight Sonata

Ever listen to it?
Because if you haven’t

you really should

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