Linchpin

 I recently learned that a dear friend of our family had passed away.  One could arguably say that this person gave me the life I live today.  He taught me how to play a blues scale on guitar.  If he hadn't taught me that, I would not play bass the way I do.  If I hadn't played bass, I may not have had the confidence to play tuba when it was suggested to me by my High School music teacher.  I wouldn't have discovered that I was fair-to-decent at it.  I therefore wouldn't have had the confidence to play tuba in college.  If I hadn't taken that class, I wouldn't have put myself forward as a musician to other musicians.  Likely, I wouldn't have grown close with the friends I made in college.

So many things I learned from music like the ability to express myself, how to recognize that desire in other people, and how to appreciate nearly every facet of human nature and our drive to create something beautiful...my journey toward discovering these things really began for me with that one blues scale.

I was shown how to play the same notes on bass so I could practice it.  Having practiced it, I was able to move my left hand proficiently enough to learn other things.  Picking up more complex bass lines came easily to me.  People told me that I was pretty good.  Others showed me things, but I likely would have flinched away from learning if I hadn't been given that confidence from a friend I trusted, that friend who was essentially my older brother's older brother.  Now, when others throw around words like "cringe" in an attempt to poke fun at the efforts of others, I can see what it took to get up and try to be somebody.  Everything that I like about who I am likely started with that one blues scale back when I was a teenager.  My appreciation for art, my belief in a transcendent state of being, the friendships I value...all of it started with music and branched off from there.

Both my parents are educators, now retired.  From them, I know the value of the art of teaching, the art of showing somebody something that you found, and turning it around so that others can experience it as well.  This is something priceless.  It can be the simplest, easiest thing to do.  It is the most basic form of kindness.  The confidence one gains from learning can be taken to other studies to blossom into something more.  It can also be taken for granted and forgotten until something tragic happens to pull that reality back in front of your eyes.  I am grateful beyond measure that Josh Higgerson took the time to show me a simple skill that I could apply to expressing myself.

I thought about writing this last night.  Then, I thought about it nearly all day today.  I feel I had more to say at points, but this is essentially what I needed to say.  I don't play guitar as much as I used to.  But I'm forever thankful for that handful of lessons I received as a teenager.  Right now, I'm watching Star Trek: Nemesis.  It is probably the most hated movie in the franchise.  I like it because it was the first Trek film I saw in the theater.  I saw it in the theater with friends I made in college, friends who are important to me still even though we haven't spoken for years.  These are people I never would have met if I had never decided to "be a musician," a decision I never would have had the opportunity to make without that first guitar lesson.

celebration

I did a few things today.  Simple things.  I have been participating in the statewide lockdown for a long time now.  I was very scared at first.  I'm still fearful.  There is no reason for me to go out for anything but work or exercise.  Work has been a daily venture since the lockdown began.  Exercise has been moved indoors.  Until today.  One of my projects started before the lockdown began, but didn't really gather steam until just after things began to shutdown.  That project was a bike build.  I ordered the frame, got the specs for the components and started ordering things.  Those things didn't start to be delivered for the most part until after I was informed that I should probably only venture out for work.  Today was the first day I had off of work since the bike was built.  I had planned to simply take it out for a quick ride.  That is what I did.  However, during my shower, I realised I needed some soap.  I had enough to get cleaned up.  But because I had already left the house, I left again.  This time, I was on my old commuter bike.  I equipped myself with some comfortable street clothes, a helmet, and a mask.  I gathered my backpack and bike lock and set off.  Quickly, I remembered the joy of riding.  I have been riding for a long time now.  I have ridden several different surfaces, styles, and for many different purposes.  But I had forgotten the simple joy of just riding.  Just like a real person on a bike.  After I got my soap, I did some things.  A few things.

I unzipped my sweatshirt so that it would blow in the wind like a cape.  I have done similar things before.  When I was in Wyoming, I did this with my hi-viz vest one day.  Just a random hero flying around with my cape in the wind.  It is like a constant hello to everybody that sees me.  All that movement.  I love it.  With my mask on, I felt great.

I bought four Snickers bars.  This is similar to something that I heard about Chris Horner.  Apparently, he would pack his pockets full of Snickers and ride for hours.  I don't really have a great affinity for Horner.  But he's a bald guy.  And I have heard that he is sort of a weird guy.  So, good on him for that.  With my own stash of Snickers, I felt like I could ride all day.

I put my hands on the flat bar of the bar, leaned forward and grinded up a hill.  I was trying to look and ride like Fausto Coppi.  I haven't done that in a long time.  I haven't tried to imitate a pro rider for years.  It is very fun.  I was so happy to have a small moment of childish entertainment.

I just rode for a bit.  I heard my old commuter bike making sounds and thought, "I can fix that.  I know what that sound is and I think I know how to make it stop."  This is the bike I started riding about three years ago.  Back then, simple noises would have been frustrating.  It would have been a source of confusion as I had to consider if it was normal or if it was something I needed to bring to the attention of a mechanic at my local shop.  It has been a while since I heard the same sounds and I had no small amount of pride that my entire view of those sounds had changed.

I am still quite fearful for my own health and the safety of my live-in girlfriend who is in a high risk group.  But I am immeasurably thankful for today.

love always,
Samuel

challenging heat

I tried to get out my older projects and work on them yesterday.  I used to do a lot of musical composition using what would probably be termed "alternative" methods of creating music.  It has been nearly ten years since I have made an attempt to engage these kinds of writing tools.  Much of what I developed was simply a process, a method of composing that operated much like a program.  I would basically invent the process, engage it, and then perform or record the result.  Many times, I didn't get to the third part- the performance.  Hoping that I could gain some insight into a new way of doing things, I had planned to pull out my sheet music and devices used for the creation of composition, perform or record these pieces using new technology I have acquired in the 10+ years since writing them.


love always,
Samuel

Important.

I recently found this on a website.  The author is talking about the current state of polity in the USA.  He prefaces the following statements with the qualifying factor, "if I am right."  I believe the author is right.

1) The power of collective cultural processes to mold people's consciousness (thought and feeling) is enormous, and should be kept in mind as we consider what's happening in our country. (I find myself amazed at how fragile rationality turns out to be.)

2) It is of vital importance that we be alert not only to new things that arise, but also to dramatic shifts in the proportions of things, which can usher in major changes in a society using only old ingredients.

love always,
Samuel

suns don't beam

What is a sunbeam?


love always,
Samuel

shh

I have a Nook and a reliable lap-top. I also have a cell phone. Recently, somebody gave me a tablet as a gift. I didn't think that I was going to use it much until I started to question my methods of study. I have a decent personal library. I do a lot of study with my library and my lap-top. Since I got my tablet, I have been thinking of using a very different form of study.

What I am wondering is if anybody else feels the same way. I have been reading through the Collected wotks of Korean Buddhism. During the course of reading only a few pages, a question inevitably arises and I go investigate it further on the 'net. When I find some resources, I then can study and formulate a better grasp of the material. This is not all that dissimilar from when I was in school and the instructor would give us a main text, lecture on it with discussion, assign us to research a topic and report what we find.

So, I guess it is not quite a new way to study, but a new place- on my tablet. What I am wondering is if anybody is interested in formng a study group.
Sorry that I had such a rambling roundabout way of saying it.

Essentially the study group would function much the same way my process was described above, with an emphasis on how you study. So instead of handing off one's conclusions found in the material, it would be encouraged to share notes, freewriting exercises, responses you get from your teacher when an inquiry concerning the materials is shared with them.

I feel that doing this sort of thing in a group setting would be wonderful.


love always,
Samuel

Craving and Thirst

So, as I mentioned in some other posts, I have been thinking a bit about grasping and craving. On more than one instance I have heard that the word used in the scriptures could be described as "thirst." When I was in New Mexico, a couple of people I was having a chat with were talking about the need to stay hydrated in the high elevation and Summer heat. One person said something about how you should never be thirsty. Once you become thirsty, you're already dehydrated. When I first heard the idea that craving could be decribed as thirst, I couldn't really see it as a bad thing. However, when I heard somebody express the idea that thirst is already too late in terms of hydrating, I started to think about it in a different way. I came to realize that it's not necessarily the object of craving that is the problem. It is the craving itself that is the problem (or the symptom of another problem). I had to think about what that might look like. I had always tried to use the metaphor of holding a stick in one's hand when trying to describe craving as grasping. If you hold on to something without being mindful about it, you will be grasping it. Have you ever had that experience of feeling like you are still carrying something heavy after you have put it down? Maybe you had been carrying it for a while and then just sort of continued flexing those muscles after putting down the heavy load. Occasionally, I would still feel the grip of a hammer after work as though I were still holding onto the handle. I could never really make this metaphor work because it fails to describe what is wrong with grasping. However, this new metaphor of thirst works really well for me. In the same way that thirst is evidence that you may have forgotten to hydrate properly, grasping could be said to be a sympton of heedlessness in one's life.


love always,
Samuel

imagine. constructive

Recently, I was watching The Simpsons and Lisa said something, followed by, "That's the Buddhist Satan." So, I looked it up and found that the word she used was "Namuche." After I looked up some information about Namuche I found that Namuche is associated with being the counterpart to Indra. Namuche described here as meaning "not letting go the waters."

Lately, I have been thinking a bit about the idea of grasping...

I understand that the name meaning of "of letting go the waters" might be a reference to a story involving Indra where Namuche plays the part of an evil-doer holding the rain from giving life. However, when I first read the name, I took the phrase to be much more metaphorical. Considering the saying, "you can never swim in the same river twice," one could reasonably draw the conclusion that the Buddhist Satan is that part of us that tries to swim in that river twice by not letting go the waters. To explain this point, I would like to give a slogan offered by Gil Fronsdal in one of his Dharma talks (in Three Parts), "nothing whatsoever is worth clinging to." Fronsdal does a wonderful job in this talk of talking about the Buddha's omniscience. He say's that this slogan is one of the common denominators of all things in the world. It seems to me that anybody who would seek to deny that denominator and "not let go the water" of the river of life would be trying to delude the world. Delusion, being the source of suffering, would seem to me to be the Hell being ruled by this "Buddhist Satan."

So, that's what I have to say about that.


love always,
Samuel

the fabulous forum

I think I am done with online forums. It's sort of funny that shortly after I wrote that, I went on a forum. I usually find myself going to forums to kill time. I do not find anything of quality to occupy my mind. I have gotten everything I ever need from a forum already. So I do not think I will be going on forums anymore.


love always,
Samuel


edit 2-10-2014:
Shortly after posting this I had a very important question I wanted to ask and thought that a forum I used to frequent would be the only place I could find a suitable answer, or at least be pointed in the right direction. Sure enough, I was dead wrong and not only did I not receive anything like a decent answer, but I was only given statements which do not facilitate any further constructive thought about the question I had. That is the last time I try to attend a discussion on any forum.

edit 2-11-2014
I am afraid that this might continue to be an ongoing discussion with myself. I went to the same discussion forum. I was sort of bored and wanted to see if the topic I posted had died where I left it and to do a little light reading of the new responses if there were any. To my unwarranted surprise, there were actually some really good responses there. This is the forum that I had previously started to rely on for the only source of discussions like this. So, like I said, my surprise at the good responses should really have not been present. However, it is plain to see that there are some people on that particular forum who simply don't know what they are talking about and are engaging in the sort of negativity that pervades much of online discourse. It has been my recent experience that this may still be a good source of discussion and I may therefore continue to attend it occasionally.

STORIES

I know that people tell stories about the things that happen to them. About the things they do. This has been a part of my daily life for some time now. I have been considering it as a fact that creates my surroundings and interrupts the flow of reality. People say things about other things all the time. I always thought that this was a bad thing considering how important I believe it to be for us to engage in the true reality. Allowing stories to colour the information coming in is to alter reality in some way. Then when we start to engage the world around us, we may find that there is a disconnect due to the fact that our ideas of the world don't fit what is really happening because of the stories we have tried to paint over the real world.

As I said earlier, I never really gave these stories that much thought because I was under the impression that these stories couldn't possibly be so complicated that some aspect of true reality couldn't be found underneath them. I didn't think that so much paint could be laid over the truth so as to cover it forever. The idea that, no matter how much we scrape away our stories, we couldn't catch even a glimpse of reality seemed almost cruel and depressing. However, a few days ago I heard some pretty incredible stories being told. Entire lives were fabricated in an instant. These stories were being bought and sold with beliefs and strung out like a stock market ticker tape was this wildly extravagant representation of reality. I thought to myself, "The stories people tell CAN be complicated.". I sent myself a text saying just that and decided to write this blog about it.


love always,
Samuel