Listening

I’ve developed an affinity for Tuesdays. I was born on a Tuesday, but that’s not the reason for my affection. For a while now I’ve been paying attention to Tuesdays, and each one seems to offer up an interesting twist, a little magic. Let’s take this week’s Tuesday for example:

My day began with the song Lungs by Townes Van Zandt. Take the time to listen:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Rdm8LItAHs

A song of sadness and truth, it is both haunting and beautiful. While listening, I felt alone, beautifully alone, but beautiful in a sad way, like the song. Wanting to prolong my wallowing, I continued listening to a string of country tunes. I remembered my Dad warning that songs reminiscent of the good times would bring pain in time. My Dad and I used to listen to music together—Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, Kris Kristofferson, Hank Snow— and have a few beers. We would often cry a little too, but our tears came out of joy; it was beautiful. In his old age, after his stroke, my Dad stopped listening, it was too painful. Today I cried for my father, for his pain, and because I am lonely without him. I spent a good part of this Tuesday morning listening, crying, and being present.

Strangely, it had a welcomed bitter sweetness to it.

It wasn’t much later that this, Tom Waits reading my favourite Bukowski poem, was presented to me (take the time to listen):

TOM WAITS READS THE BUKOWSKI POEM, “A LAUGHING HEART!”

Again, I was presented with men who see the beauty in sadness, the light in the darkness. Such beautiful words. I took those words with me out into the forest, felt the light, and it felt good.

I returned from the woods to partake in a global meditation, an event that takes place on each full moon. Its purpose is to direct love and positive healing energy out into the world. It was my second time participating, and each time its affect on me has been remarkably powerful. I felt love, it was energizing and healing. You can find it here:

http://globalloveproject.com/inspiration/world-healing-meditation/

This is me ‘knowing my life’, letting the light in, on a Tuesday.

Stay tuned, I’ll let you know what I find next Tuesday.

5 Comments

  1. I felt emotional on Tuesday. Almost like I was connecting with you. My work day in the office drained me and I felt anger and sadness at the same time. I wished to have joined for this global mediation and walk through the nature. I can almost feel the freshness of the forest on my skin

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    1. Thank you for the thoughtful comment.

      The full moon likely had much to do with your emotions. I had trouble sleeping that night, which is unusual for me, and so was less than enthusiastic on Wednesday, but curious all the same at just how much the moon can impact our ‘self’, especially if you are open to it.

      Be sure to join the meditating next full moon. And come walk with me any time.

      Like

  2. The Blackbirds Are Rough Today

    lonely as a dry and used orchard
    spread over the earth
    for use and surrender.

    shot down like an ex-pug selling
    dailies on the corner.

    taken by tears like
    an aging chorus girl
    who has gotten her last check.

    a hanky is in order your lord your
    worship.

    the blackbirds are rough today
    like
    ingrown toenails
    in an overnight
    jail—
    wine wine whine,
    the blackbirds run around and
    fly around
    harping about
    Spanish melodies and bones.

    and everywhere is
    nowhere—
    the dream is as bad as
    flapjacks and flat tires:

    why do we go on
    with our minds and
    pockets full of
    dust
    like a bad boy just out of
    school—
    you tell
    me,
    you who were a hero in some
    revolution
    you who teach children
    you who drink with calmness
    you who own large homes
    and walk in gardens
    you who have killed a man and own a
    beautiful wife
    you tell me
    why I am on fire like old dry
    garbage.

    we might surely have some interesting
    correspondence.
    it will keep the mailman busy.
    and the butterflies and ants and bridges and
    cemeteries
    the rocket-makers and dogs and garage mechanics
    will still go on a
    while
    until we run out of stamps
    and/or
    ideas.

    don’t be ashamed of
    anything; I guess God meant it all
    like
    locks on
    doors.

    Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me. Using my fave Bukowski poem as my thoughts…

    Like

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