The Lovers, The Dreamers and Me….

I sat down to write, already a day late and trying to follow an elusive thread of an idea—something about change—through what felt like wet cement, and finally admitting defeat, retired to the tv room, my sanctuary, to immerse myself in listening to some guy on CNN explain just why Americans and in fact the entire modern world are hated by Muslim extremists.  I can’t say it was a respite, but it did help me let go of the fruitless mind spinning of trying to write when you don’t have a clear idea of what you want to say.  Then it was on to watching the political analysts scratch their collective heads at Donald Trump’s having fired the head of his campaign, with said fire-ee yet professing absolute love of and good wishes towards the man who fired him. The thing about the fact that the world appears to be riding the crazy train with no engineer at the helm is that it does make for very entertaining news—good at taking one’s mind off of other disturbing things.  After that I wandered into the kitchen, up to no good, it must be admitted, when I heard the ping of a new text message.

It was a friend asking if I had any suggestions for music that could be played at the memorial service of an old friend—in fact, my high school boyfriend—who had unexpectedly died last week.  This person and I had gone our separate ways when we broke up, he more or less remaining with the larger group of friends we were a part of, and I only remaining close with one of the members of the group with whom I had interests in common.  I tried to remember music my old boyfriend may have liked, but could only give general suggestions….Crosby, Stills, and Nash?  The Band?  I was drawing a blank and quickly admitted it, suggesting someone else who might know.  This, after all, was not to be taken lightly, this business of selecting music to represent a life lived.

Which got me thinking about the dilemma of someone being put in that position for me—of having to choose a song to convey who I have been.  Not trying to be morbid, here!  I truly hope not to be going anywhere anytime soon, and in fact, if I had to choose a theme song for myself for right now, it would be the same one—it has nothing to do with sadness or loss or remembrance or anything like that.  I remember hearing it for the first time and just laughing, it made me so happy.  And it expressed my feelings about life as if it had been written just for me.  Not to mention that I’ve always had a crush on the singer.  So here goes….

It Stays on My Mind, Too

I’ve read  quite a few times that linear time is an illusion, and that the reality is that what we think of as being past, present and future are actually all happening at once.  This is way too much for me to wrap my little brain around, but then again, every once in a while I experience something that would seem to support that idea...

Read More