Have you ever noticed how passionate people are about their favorite songs or rock groups?
Music is more than the notes played or the words sung. Music speaks to us on many levels. Songs dig deeper and speak to our souls.
I can remember how important some songs have been through different times in my life. When I was in my 20s, I know that music could express my thoughts and feelings much better than I could. I didn't have the ability to express what I what feeling or thinking into words.
So music connects to our human life force. We can't neglect that, or take it for granted.
So, I am thankful for all of those songwriters, singers and musicians who share their gifts and talent with the world. They help explore and express meaning within our world. They give us a way to find community and communicate with others.
So, embrace the music that matters to you and don't put down other people's musical taste. Perhaps, that is the music that speaks to their soul.
Found some Bowie on YouTube, enjoy:
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Monday, April 15, 2013
Finding My Voice
One of the reasons I've been scarce from this blog is that each time I feel
close to finding my voice (IE: finding my way to writing again), it seems like something shuts me down again.
Sometimes, it's my own attitude towards work; it drags me down and I can't focus on expressing myself in positive ways.
Other times, it's a more deep rooted pattern in my life. When I was a child, besides witnessing my dad's cruelty towards my mom, she told me more than I should have known about her life, and her marriage with dad. I was emeshed for a few years of my life. I couldn't formulate my own opinions, thoughts or feelings. Anytime I tried, it was shut down by mom. {This isn't something I blame her or dad for; it was a traumatic situation for everyone involved.}
I spent my 20s and 30s getting free from this unhealthy bond. However, I have found within the last year, that my mom uses my weekly phone calls as a way to review her life, her childhood.
It's as if I'm her biographer, and she telling me these stories of her life for the first time. She's telling me them with a purpose; as if she intends me to records these stories in a permanent record. I keep telling her she needs to get a notebook and write down these stories - to tell him within her voice.
I keep suggesting this because I don't want the burden of holding her stories anymore. It is not my responsibility to tell her story.
I feel as if I lose my own voice each time she expects me to unravel the mysteries of her life.
I have felt my creativity clog up so many times this year, and I couldn't understand why.
I know in my heart, this has to be why. This unspoken burden of being my mother's chronicler.
Yet, I know, I can't do that. I can only tell my own story. I could never accurately tell anyone else's. I shouldn't expect myself to do do.
Now that I realize this, I feel at peace within myself. I no longer have to keep this expectation.
Sometimes, it's my own attitude towards work; it drags me down and I can't focus on expressing myself in positive ways.
Other times, it's a more deep rooted pattern in my life. When I was a child, besides witnessing my dad's cruelty towards my mom, she told me more than I should have known about her life, and her marriage with dad. I was emeshed for a few years of my life. I couldn't formulate my own opinions, thoughts or feelings. Anytime I tried, it was shut down by mom. {This isn't something I blame her or dad for; it was a traumatic situation for everyone involved.}
I spent my 20s and 30s getting free from this unhealthy bond. However, I have found within the last year, that my mom uses my weekly phone calls as a way to review her life, her childhood.
It's as if I'm her biographer, and she telling me these stories of her life for the first time. She's telling me them with a purpose; as if she intends me to records these stories in a permanent record. I keep telling her she needs to get a notebook and write down these stories - to tell him within her voice.
I keep suggesting this because I don't want the burden of holding her stories anymore. It is not my responsibility to tell her story.
I feel as if I lose my own voice each time she expects me to unravel the mysteries of her life.
I have felt my creativity clog up so many times this year, and I couldn't understand why.
I know in my heart, this has to be why. This unspoken burden of being my mother's chronicler.
Yet, I know, I can't do that. I can only tell my own story. I could never accurately tell anyone else's. I shouldn't expect myself to do do.
Now that I realize this, I feel at peace within myself. I no longer have to keep this expectation.
Monday, April 8, 2013
Waiting for Spring
I feel like I'm waiting for something new. Well, not waiting exactly.
More like I've healed so much within my soul and now I'm ready for the next adventure that life is offering.
Or, perhaps I'm just going through a mid-life crisis like everyone else in their mid-40s.
All I know for certain is that I feel like I want someone in my life that I feel connected to mind, body and soul. Yet, I know it might be that it's not possible this time around. But, I can hope and dream, can't I?
More like I've healed so much within my soul and now I'm ready for the next adventure that life is offering.
Or, perhaps I'm just going through a mid-life crisis like everyone else in their mid-40s.
All I know for certain is that I feel like I want someone in my life that I feel connected to mind, body and soul. Yet, I know it might be that it's not possible this time around. But, I can hope and dream, can't I?
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