Between a rock and a hard place
Beauty thrives
Deep in the darkness
Strength is found
Against all odds
Life persists
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
The Sound of Memory
Why do I often feel like writing when I can barely keep my eyes
open? When my rational, organized, motivated mind gets sleepy, my
creative mind has a few moments where it can sneak in and take control
before the entire system shuts down.
Today I was thinking about how music is so tied to memory, and then I thought about how it is more than just music, it is sound. The sound of your mother's voice, the sound of your baby's cry, the tornado siren, the school bell, the sound of caulk on the board, the vibration of the diving board, the phone ringing - all bring a vivid picture to mind, an instant reaction, an automatic time travel, mental teleportation to another time and place. If you indulge your imagination, you can drag it out for a few more moments and experience again times gone by. The unpleasant ones are a shock, a startling emotional jar that you can't slam the door shut on fast enough.
I listen to a lot of audio books. It's funny how the sound of the stories become attached to the location where I heard them, or the activity I was doing. For example, I was listening to this book I didn't really like, but was persevering to at least finish it while I was helping my husband do a final clean on a wood floor job of his. I was on the floor, scraping bits of dried glue while I listened to that lame story. Every time I drive by that house, I think of that stupid book! It's stuck. That memory is all tied up in the sound of that story. Too bad it wasn't a great book that I would love to remember. When I mop a certain hallway I think of this fantasy novel about fairies. It's kind of nice to be reminded of a pleasant little story while doing such a boring household chore.
I can't tell you how many times I have been in a store and snapped to attention when I heard a child call out , "MOM". It's not my child, but the sound of a distressed child calling my "name" gets my attention. It's an automatic reaction. A baby crying will do similar things to me. It's a deep response, at my core, the need to respond to that sound.
There is the song one of my yoga teachers used to play during the final relaxation phase. Five notes in and I'm relaxed. It's awesome. I should keep that song cued up and ready to play when the day gets too tense and I'm ready to scream. Instant relaxation.
Kashmir, that takes me back to one of the most enjoyable times of my life. Band practice, in the basement of our house in Utah. I hear that song and I am happy. It's pretty awesome that song is as long as it is. Keep the good vibes rollin' ...
There is nothing like the sound of a good rain storm to put me to sleep. It can be 2pm, and I am in the middle of a project, if the rain starts, I want to go to sleep. It's auto pilot, rainy day, sleep mode for me. Riding in a car has that effect on me too. If I am a passenger I will likely fall asleep. I think that might have less to do with sound, and more to do with all the Dramamine induced sleepy car rides of my childhood.
When I fly I often fall asleep to the sound of the flight attendant's voice telling us about seat cushion floatation devises and wake up to the sound of the wheels dropping. More sound induced conditioning. Just like that dog of Pavlov ....
Often as I work I listen to music. It keeps me company. The memories the songs evoke bring old friends along to hang out while I sit here at my desk. Without them, the silence is deafening, the solitude suffocating.
Today I was thinking about how music is so tied to memory, and then I thought about how it is more than just music, it is sound. The sound of your mother's voice, the sound of your baby's cry, the tornado siren, the school bell, the sound of caulk on the board, the vibration of the diving board, the phone ringing - all bring a vivid picture to mind, an instant reaction, an automatic time travel, mental teleportation to another time and place. If you indulge your imagination, you can drag it out for a few more moments and experience again times gone by. The unpleasant ones are a shock, a startling emotional jar that you can't slam the door shut on fast enough.
I listen to a lot of audio books. It's funny how the sound of the stories become attached to the location where I heard them, or the activity I was doing. For example, I was listening to this book I didn't really like, but was persevering to at least finish it while I was helping my husband do a final clean on a wood floor job of his. I was on the floor, scraping bits of dried glue while I listened to that lame story. Every time I drive by that house, I think of that stupid book! It's stuck. That memory is all tied up in the sound of that story. Too bad it wasn't a great book that I would love to remember. When I mop a certain hallway I think of this fantasy novel about fairies. It's kind of nice to be reminded of a pleasant little story while doing such a boring household chore.
I can't tell you how many times I have been in a store and snapped to attention when I heard a child call out , "MOM". It's not my child, but the sound of a distressed child calling my "name" gets my attention. It's an automatic reaction. A baby crying will do similar things to me. It's a deep response, at my core, the need to respond to that sound.
There is the song one of my yoga teachers used to play during the final relaxation phase. Five notes in and I'm relaxed. It's awesome. I should keep that song cued up and ready to play when the day gets too tense and I'm ready to scream. Instant relaxation.
Kashmir, that takes me back to one of the most enjoyable times of my life. Band practice, in the basement of our house in Utah. I hear that song and I am happy. It's pretty awesome that song is as long as it is. Keep the good vibes rollin' ...
There is nothing like the sound of a good rain storm to put me to sleep. It can be 2pm, and I am in the middle of a project, if the rain starts, I want to go to sleep. It's auto pilot, rainy day, sleep mode for me. Riding in a car has that effect on me too. If I am a passenger I will likely fall asleep. I think that might have less to do with sound, and more to do with all the Dramamine induced sleepy car rides of my childhood.
When I fly I often fall asleep to the sound of the flight attendant's voice telling us about seat cushion floatation devises and wake up to the sound of the wheels dropping. More sound induced conditioning. Just like that dog of Pavlov ....
Often as I work I listen to music. It keeps me company. The memories the songs evoke bring old friends along to hang out while I sit here at my desk. Without them, the silence is deafening, the solitude suffocating.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Go Ahead and Shrug
This is the cover art from one of my favorite books. The image illustrates the story well. The weight of the world is on the broad, capable shoulders of Atlas. The world is balanced, and safe as long as he holds strong. Do the people walking around on the earth even notice the enormous job Atlas is performing on their behalf? Do they know the sacrifice, or the personal strength it takes to carry that load? What if Atlas were to shrug? Where would they be then? More importantly, what would Atlas do without that burden on his back? Atlas is a metaphor for the hard working people of the world, the contributors, those that produce. Tonight at yoga class we were working on opening up our shoulders. My shoulders are typically tight, and I have to consciously remember to roll them down and away from my ears. Shoulder work takes effort for me, and tonight was no exception. While we were in the middle of a particularly challenging pose with a very small movement we switched quickly from stretching shoulders into opening up our chest. The instructor explained that when our shoulders are tight, it makes it difficult for our chest to open. The tight shoulders pull our chest inward.
At that moment my understanding opened up and I made a connection. When we shoulder too many burdens, carry more than our own load, it makes it difficult for our hearts to be open. The emotional, energetic weight on our shoulders forces our hearts to close-in for protection.
Look at Atlas. Where is his heart? Can you see his chest? It's closed and protected, to garner the strength, to bare the load. He isn't standing - it's too much. It is not right for one person to carry the weight of the world. Even Atlas isn't really designed to do it for the long haul. Carrying that much takes it's toll, and severely limits the joy the barer can experience.
It is hard to love when we try to carry it all. We have to let those burdens go if we are to truly be open to love and be loved. The burdens are not ours to shoulder. We need to shrug them off, let them roll on by, and open up our hearts and embrace the love. Go ahead and shrug.
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