It Works If You Work It

The floors of these sordid basement rooms made your hands feel sticky, even if they never even came close to touching them. It was a bad dream of a place; where grandiose proclamations, half-assed promises and assorted shame coagulated in a thin film across the tile, which was always poorly mopped, and inevitably crusting in the corners. I stared down into the last remaining inch of my tepid black coffee. I could see my distorted reflection, though thoughts of my own glaring imperfections would have to wait until it was my turn to speak. Tonight, my objective was simple - avoid eye contact with two people in the room: the enthusiastic old-timer who was chairing the meeting, and the tattooed, tumultuous, fuck-you stare of a bad news brunette. 

How Might We Say Yes?

I wonder how different our relationships, commitments and aspirations would look if they were sought and nurtured without any promise of social, economic or eternal reward.

If all things were equal, how might be say yes? How might we say no? If you removed the optic glow - the opinion of your chosen tribe, the safety of what's expected - what would you care to do with the love that is in you? Or the love that approaches you? 

But, I suppose the question might be largely irrelevant because, among other considerations, it seems to most that things are unfair, out of balance, misaligned; that things are somehow scarce.

Still, I believe it's a worthwhile angle to ponder: If we all had what we needed, if we didn't fear loneliness or rejection or discomfort and if we could lose our fear of disappointing others, what would we embrace in quiet commitment? And who or what would we quietly let go of - without shame or blame?

I just wonder. Do you? 

Dew Drop #1

Make your own world, or be crushed by the worlds made by others. 

Croz Has Left The Building..

David Crosby was one of the most beautiful, brilliant, cantankerous, soulful and bracingly honest characters in American musical history. But more than that, he was a first class songwriter, a powerful cultural voice and, hands down, the greatest harmony singer I've ever heard. 

Croz was also fearlessly authentic and wholly unique, in a world that does not always like or reward such brazen sincerity. From The Byrds to CSNY to his incredible solo catalog, we were gifted with 59 years of his music. I can't imagine a world without him.  He is one of the Fathers of the country I live in. A true North Star. The void he leaves is tremendous. 

How lucky do I feel, how blessed am I, that I incarnated in a world where David Crosby played and sang? I'm beyond grateful. 

One of the things I truly admired about Croz was the way he rose from the ashes; like a portly, mustachioed phoenix (or songbird). He lost so many years to illness and self-destruction, only to spend the last decade of his life on a creative hot streak, making as much music as he could, releasing five beautiful records as the clock was running out. And when I say beautiful, you can rest assured that this is a colossal understatement.

He will remain a fixture on my record shelf and an inspiration for the rest of my life. 

"Don't waste the time. Time is the final currency, man. Not money, not power—it's time." - David Crosby 

Thank you, Mr. Crosby. Rest Easy. Well Done, Sir. You leave with a standing ovation.

Here, Take This Before Bed.. Part Fourteen

Goodnight, my friends.

Here's some good stuff for you to think about before bed in these times of tumult and uncertainty:

The sound of a trumpet with exquisite tone echoing through an alleyway. A massive flock of birds that suddenly darkens the sky. The smell on onions sizzling on the grill. A little kid on her parent's shoulder in the park. Raindrops falling into your hand. Realizing the deepest and most beautiful parts of yourself never left you. 

Mama Don't Need Your Pocket Change..

"How a society treats pregnant women is a metaphor for a how society raises its children." - Ibram Kendi, How To Be An Anti-Racist

As we're seeing new, draconian, anti-abortion laws take effect two weeks into the new year, I'm noticing a bunch of criminally stupid, self-congratulatory "we did it" posts from Christians online that end with something to this effect:

"Now that we have banned abortion and restored our values, please consider donating to a crisis pregnancy center."

The part of my heart that easily registers disgust would like nothing more than for me to strike out at them; to offer seething, sanguinary sentiments regarding the sheer lunacy of such an asinine idea. As tempting as that might be, I think I'll just weigh in with this: 

I've got news for you, you nefarious hypocrites: It's too late. Nevermind all the women up to this point who have already had abortions for purely economic reasons. Nevermind all those who had abortions solely because they lacked any sort of real community and system to support them. 

There are abortion bans going into effect *right now* all across the country, and your suggestion is to "donate some used blankets to a crisis pregnancy center?" That's it? Seriously? That's what you think will be required of you in order to stem the tide of bloodshed from back alley and bath tub abortions?

You fought tooth and nail, practically put your life on the line, against healthcare for pregnant women. You called preschool programs "socialism" and therefore decried them as evil. You railed against EBT and the EITC and every method by which the poor, the disadvantaged and the marginalized might be able to get a leg up and find their footing. You sneered at single mothers, dismantled any hope of affordable housing and ripped money from public schools. You're not a Christian, you're a philistine pillager. You have looted and destroyed all the ways and means by which poor people can afford to raise healthy children. You've done nearly everything in your power to make pregnancy a frightening, dangerous affair for millions of people in this country, and now, you think a few fucking blankets will be enough to make up for it? A one time donation to a crisis center will absolve you of all the times and the ways you have oppressed the unborn by oppressing their mothers? You've done nothing, absolutely nothing, but oppress the very people you claim to want to save, and now you want to congratulate yourself for "stepping up" by offering your measly pocket change as an afterthought?

What a damned country. What a hateful, wicked people. 

As a Christian, your witness to the world cannot simply be that you're opposed to the slightest deviation from biblical literalism, or that you diminish or attempt to erase the existence of any and all things that discomfort you, even risking the harm and safety of human beings in the process. 

If you want to be a Christian, if you want the teachings of the Christ to reverberate through the land, then let your courage break through. Look into your heart and let it speak. Let your hands feed the hungry and let your words be a balm for the wounded. Let your testimony and your witness be that you will not bend to empire, that you will not abandon those who are hurting and suffering in your midst. Let your heart love fiercely and affirm the imago dei in every single person you encounter. They are all worthy of love and protection. They are all worthy of owning their own bodies. They are all our Mother.

A Year of Reading..

I've decided to give myself the gift of reading this year, carving out deliberate quiet spaces to absorb creative works that are brand new to me. Over the course of the past two years (one supposes the Covid Pandemic plays into it), I've gotten away from the practice, and as a result, that mental muscle has begun to atrophy. The last thing I want to become is a slave to technology, or perhaps even worse, a man stuck in a valley of disinterest and apathy. So, suffice to say, I'm jumping back in and plan to read as many books as I can. I've also decided that most of those books will be written by women. 

The first book I finished in 2023 was absolutely delightful and thought-provoking. Without providing a nauseating dissertation about how far too many American men tend to view women through the poisonous prism of the Madonna-Whore Complex, Pamela Druckerman's "Bringing Up Bebe: One American Mother Discovers the Wisdom of French Parenting" helped me understand the way other cultures, in this case the French, take a far more healthy and refreshing approach to parenting, and with it comes a curious and enchanting perspective on femininity, womanhood, aging, motherhood and, dare I say, sex; certainly a more unique and restorative approach then we tend to have here in The United States of Puritanica. I was content to wrap my mind around a wonderfully new set of ideas.

So, I finished her book first and I'm glad I did. It was thought-provoking, charming, heartbreaking, funny, brilliant, utterly relatable  and all kinds of lovely. 

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"The Frenchwomen I meet aren’t at all blasé about motherhood, or about their babies’ well-being. They’re awed, concerned, and aware of the immense life transformation that they’re about to undergo. But they signal this differently. American women typically demonstrate commitment by worrying and by showing how much they're willing to sacrifice, even while pregnant, whereas Frenchwomen signal their commitment by projecting calm and flaunting the fact that they haven’t renounced pleasure.

What really fortifies Frenchwomen against guilt is their conviction that it’s unhealthy for mothers and children to spend all their time together. They believe there’s a risk of smothering kids with attention and anxiety, or of developing the dreaded relation fusionnelle, where a mother’s and a child’s needs are too intertwined. Children—even babies and toddlers—need the chance to cultivate their inner lives without a mother’s constant interference.

Letting children 'live their lives' isn’t about releasing them into the wild or abandoning them (though French school trips do feel a bit like that to me). It’s about acknowledging that children aren’t repositories for their parents’ ambitions or projects for their parents to perfect. They are separate and capable, with their own tastes, pleasures, and experiences of the world.

If your child is your only goal in life, it's not good for the child. What happens to the child if he’s the only hope for his mother? I think this is the opinion of all psychoanalysts..."

- Pamela Druckerman "Bringing Up Bebe"

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Next up, I'll be driving into Lorrie Moore's "Birds Of America" and "Up On The Rooftop" by Margaret Wilkerson Sexton.

What are YOU reading?