THERE ARE FEW WORDS NEEDED

I went to bed last Friday night with sad news consuming my mind. A friend from many years ago had died suddenly. It was unexpected and one of those moments that suddenly zooms everything into focus immediately.

I hadn't seen him for many years, but it didn't matter. Like many other old friends from a very formative and intense time in my life, just knowing that he was out there somewhere putting his own unique stamp on the world was reassuring ... and then he was gone suddenly.

The tributes, reflections and statements of shock on facebook came quickly. It was amazing to suddenly get a sense of the web of connection between so many people all stemming from this one very meaningful and dynamic life, a life defined by a tremendous generosity of spirit and an infectious commitment to making the world a more humane and colourful place.

When I awoke Saturday morning, tired from staying up late and corresponding with a few friends about our shared loss, my senses were immediately enlivened by the abundant signs of life in my own home... the smell of fresh coffee wafting through the house and the persistent thumping and distant chattering of my children playing two floors below me, the pitch of their excited voices more familiar than any other sound in the world.

I was drawn out of my own interior dialogue and forced to contend with the vibrant energy of my little ones embracing another day. The utter chaos of strewn toys and an almost completely emptied books shelf this early in the day didn't bother me as it might have normally; these to me were now sign posts pointing me towards how blessed I truly am, a reminder that life is often messy when it is expressed to the fullest.

In recent years I have often experienced a sense of restlessness that interferes with my ability to truly attend to what is happening right in front of me, though this was completely absent this day. I suddenly had no voice to yell, no energy to be annoyed or put out by anything; everything before me was something to experience, behold and consider carefully.

Throughout the day certain memories about my old friend began to resurface, often in response to various associations in my immediate surroundings. In a strange way I felt like he was part of my day, forcing me to reconcile happy memories from my past with a new and different reality that I needed to contend with more closely in the present. I was thankful for this gift.

*************

A few years ago when I first started blogging my old friend was kind enough to post the following comments;

"You're a beacon. Not being ironic - Miss you, Matt."

The words were few, put packed a great punch, and were greatly appreciated at the time. They hold even more meaning now. All I can really do now is send them back, with an honesty and fullness of heart that I aspire to maintain even more so now when I think of how my old friend lived his life. So here's all I need to say;

"You're a beacon. Not being ironic - Miss you, Jamie"

TIME'S TIDE WILL SMOTHER YOU

"Park the car at the side of the road
You should know
Time's tide will smother you
And I will too"

I am forever perplexed by my mind's ability to retain certain pieces of information, while other thoughts or memories disintegrate like paper through a shredder. I am confident that there are certain well adored song lyrics that will remain readily accessible until the moment of my last breath, whereas some things of seemingly vital importance are treated like disposable ephemera by my rather fickle mind. My mind is a temperamental beast that often resists my futile efforts towards inducing submission.

I was amazed recently by my lyrical recall abilities when I began to dive back into some beloved songs by one of my favourite bands of yore, The Smiths (courtesy of the recent "Sound of the Smiths" compilation - more on this in another post).

Some of the songs I hadn't listened to for a good 7 or 8 years and I was genuinely amazed at the instant familiarity with every lyric. My memory was working in auto pilot as I took in each song and basked in the glorious visceral experience of actively engaging with the music.

I also know that it wasn't simply my mind responding to the obvious prompt of being exposed to something familiar; all of this was so embedded in my mind and I was acutely aware that even during my half decade long Smiths listening drought I would still occasionally run through entire song lyrics in my mind.

To put my "working memory" in context, I usually have to request a password reset on a bi-weekly basis at work for my desktop, as the rather "obvious" passwords I choose are often snubbed by my mind like saltines and cheese whiz at a fancy dinner party. Needless to say, my ability to remember pretty well every lyric to the entire Smiths catalogue is no small accomplishment.

I am fairly confident that I will take pretty well every song by The Smiths to the grave with me. Somehow, if I am blessed enough to live into my 80's I think I'll be humming "Cemetry Gates" or "These Things Take Time" as some hapless care aid wheels me down the hallway and has to hear me rant about the brilliant concert in '86 one more time.

Without a doubt there will be times when I utter these classic lyrics with glee as I stumble about awkwardly (complete with some helpful visuals from Monty Python for good measure);

My totally baseless and unproven scientific theory is that there is a distinct reason why the songs that we listen to during our adolescent years become so embedded in our minds. It is not exclusively the result of nostalgia, but partially connected to the new neural pathways that are opening during this period of intense brain development.

The songs we listen to during this time weave themselves through these new pathways, and perhaps in many ways inspire their growth. Your memory can't help put recall the indelible imprints that first visit these new areas of the brain that are still pliable and less static. Listening to certain songs on a repeated basis in a rather obsessive manner certainly helps as well.

Regardless of how shaky my theory is I am confident that there will always be a firm place for a number of these songs in my otherwise perilous mind. Even if I can't remember the PIN for my ATM card or recall half the birthdays in my family (I have been rescued many times by those wonderful facebook birthday alerts) I will certainly be softly humming "There is a Light That Never Goes Out" up until the time that the lights actually do in fact go out for me.

Are there lyrics or songs that your brain will likely never be able to shake, regardless of what happens to your mental capacity over time?

CAUTIONARY TALES FOR A NEW CENTURY

Lately two recent stories regarding multiple births have been circulating in the mainstream media. It seems there is a collective appetite to bask in the murky glow where science and childbirth intersect, illustrated dramatically in the recent accounts of a mother of 6 children giving birth to octuplets and a 60 year-old woman in Calgary giving birth to twins, both through the magic of in vitro fertilization.

In addition to inspiring the shock tinged sound bites from the inevitable pundits in the media, I think on another level these stories function as sort of post-modern cautionary tales that captivate our imaginations in the early 21st century.

They reflect both our sense of awe and dread towards science. We marvel at the wonders of our accomplishments and yet we are held equally spellbound by the freakish and unimagined consequences of scientific experimentation, thus providing great material of our increasingly macabre imaginations.

These are the new cautionary tales that are gradually embedding themselves in our collective psyche, where we are left aghast when the expression of individual rights and desires are manifested in previously unimagined ways. These stories remind us that we are wandering in new directions, unable to heed the reliable signposts that were once able to guide us.

It makes me think of those ghastly Victorian-era cautionary tale for children where a terrible fate awaits those foolish enough to ignore conventional morality. In these tales impetuous children who refuse to take heed of the wisdom of their elders end up falling through the ice or being eaten by wild animals, though now the consequence are more dramatic and far reaching.

Will we tell our children tales of cloned sheep run amok or octuplets crying all night and driving their parents to the brink, all because science was blindly embraced? Will we warn them sternly of what occurs when the desire to achieve one's own end, regardless of the means, creates some horrible outcome that one is doomed to endure?

Personally, I'll stick with the classics, like the Beatrix Potter tale of the "Fierce Bad Rabbit" who gets his tale shot off by a hunter after being greedy, or the "Dreadful Tale of Pauline & The Matches", which ends with rather obvious consequences;

Of course there is also the tale of "Little Suck-A-Thumb" who looses his offending digits courtesy a mad scissor wielding tailor after failing to heed the warnings of his mother;

Perhaps I'll throw the "cautionary to the wind" and stick to some stories geared towards inspiring wonder in my children, rather than dread. They will see enough of the bizarre in this brave new world soon enough, and perhaps their moral compass can be shaped through other means other than fear!

Still though, aren't these new tales grand?

LIKE A PHOENIX FROM THE FLAMES....

I arise from my glorious winter slumber, emerging anew and reborn, refreshed and ready to fly boldly into the horizon of this strange new world...

In the nearly two months since my last post I have been hibernating, not literally of course (there are bills to pay), but I have abandoned the neon glow of my computer screen at night and have replaced it with some cocooning in bed accompanied by some really good fiction (err, OK I do stay up late one night a week with the PS3 killing zombies).

I needed to take a break from writing in order to reflect, rest and step back a bit from my often busy mind. At times I believe I suffer from a form of mental paralysis resulting from too many ideas competing for air time at the same time. I am a bit of an idea machine; I am your dream companion for a creative brainstorming session, though please don't even think about asking me for any concrete follow through once the ideas are narrowed down and further implementation is required.

I like the discipline of taking time to write everyday, as it releases some of the internal pressure in my mind when I allow a few half-baked ideas to be released on a daily basis. This is why I am motivated to blog again, not because I think the world is waiting with bated breath for my next post, but for my own sake in order to find time to formulate my thoughts, engage in a little creative play and share my ideas with a few other fine folks

I am currently contemplating doing a series of musical themed posts in order to explore further something I love, and to provide some more disciplined focus for my writing. I may invite some of you to participate in some good old fashioned collaboration as well. You have been warned!

PS: Thanks to those of you who continued to leave comments and drop by while I took a break.