Coffee, Lentils and Music

The glance backward...he looks back.  Even in this space of "finding water"...the ebb and the flow of thought.  The seeping to the gushing, even roaring and thundering flows of thought.

To create to day, in this moment which will add up to today.... 

Coffee, computer, lentil breakfast (kinda strange, but it was easy and quick and plus, seems like its the food of the souls of at least some thinkers any-who, and it is absolutely sad if you know with whom this author so arrogantly makes comparison)....

continuing on....thinking about the silence here on this space.  

Maybe over a year? The ebb and flow of life.  Some days and weeks, the bin has overflowed with the accumulated trash of life.  There is no energy to move that mountain.  Sometimes, life is like this.

The writer has been engaged with perhaps the largest life-task to date.  There has been writing elsewhere.  On paper (his favorite).  Closed Facebook groups.  Lots of personal texts.  Some emails.  NO lack of words.  

There has been the writing of the previous chapter while writing the next, and dreaming of the future chapters yet to be written, and then those flashes of inspiration/confusion when the story get's all mixed up together, and then the unwinding of such chunks of emotionally charged lived experiences.  After all life is a story.  Both author and audience, crafter and critic: the life-liver is one and the same.

The hubris is palpable.  Then the Australian friend who recently quipped, "you have something to say".  Stop quoting everybody else.  Yep.   Sage wisdom, which I could not help but "quote", and the chuckling rumbles somewhere in the empty basement office.

Maybe the silence is important.  Something has been happening, even while feeling like nothing is happening.

And the music: The music has stopped for this man.  At times, the plug has been pulled, the amps gone  dead.   There was the the brief mousey squeaking of the singers, stranded in mid-chorus. The cheering fans both silent and abuzz with "what's wrong" and "what happened" and the gowdawful disappointment of the dream-music stopping.  

"The day the music stopped" in Ukraine.  It was not Monday 2/21???  I ponder something else: the day the music stopped in Russia??? The wail of the loss erupting as rockets hit buildings and everything inside.  The rage of man exploding---brother against brother---humans? doing what humans apparently do to themselves and others.  

One can hope that this occurs rarely, for short periods of time, on a small scale, and with not too great of losses.  It takes an awful lot of time to recover you know.  (This has been a week of hell on earth of sure.)  The author wished that a prayer would assuage the crazy: in himself and his fellow man.

And a few more quotes dripped out.  Is there anything new under the sun?  Solomon said: no.  Obviously we do know a few new things, well some people know a few things that Solomon did not know.  He boasted of all kinds of human emotions in his "Songs of Solomon".  

If this writer were to quote his music now it would be "all is vanity" (depending on the perspective, "between the sheets").  Maybe he was having a bad day.  Who knows.  The scribe tasked with that piece likely felt the depths of the words he was "transcribing"/ "concocting".  Whether there is wisdom, which I'm sure there is a bit, but for me, it's sandwiched between other toxic elements that for now remain less potent if allowed to remain where they lay in such an odd place as the molder of Solomon's wisdom literature.

Don't forget that silence is a music notation: a rest.  Real music, any music, has spaces of silence in-between-the initial silence and that ending silence.  Maybe it was the combo of lentils and coffee that produced somekinda of chatter.  If it was musical to you....well great.  Happy Monday to you.  

Let there be peace on earth, between brothers.  Better choices maybe made seven days on.  Now it would be hard, but it's still possible.  The aggressor might cease his aggression.  It's not likely, but then wars do not always last.  

Ukraine might know something of a topic that hums in my mind.   Closeness: On the loneliness of aloneness.  Now it might be argued that Russia is the lonely man.  I know we, you and I will take sides.  I feel very strong anger toward Russia.  I also ponder what it must be like to be on both sides.