Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Please Don't Stop the Music...



Some have flown away
And can't be with us here today
Like the hills of my home
Some have crumbled and now are gone
Gather around for today won't come again
Won't come again

I am blessed
I am blessed to be a witness
Watching Joan of Arcadia tonight with The Hubby, I'm always in awe of whomever was in charge of picking out the music for the series. Granted, I'm also a big fan of the fuzzy-warm "lessons" and the snappy dialogue (Hey, a "Can't we all just get along" TV show never really hurt anyone, ya know?), but the music...

Music was always big in our home. Between Mom blasting out country and classic rock every day, and Dad telling us what was and wasn't "approved" music for us kids to listen to, somewhere between the total abandoning love my mother had for music and the dictator-like stance my father constantly approached it with, all five of us learned to appreciate not just music in the most general of terms, but to develop a critical ear for which styles we loved, hated, as well as loved to hate...

While I "love to hate" a lot of top forty, my heart holds a special place for dance music (but not electronica) and folksy-rock (and so the marriage of polar opposites is complete in my soul...), and this was just one of those songs that made me stop and go "Whoa! Great song!"

Life is so fleeting, so fragile, so precious. It's one of the reasons I get snarky about people like Sarah Palin, who think they have a right to tell others how to live their lives. It's the reason I have such issues with fundamentalism. It's the reason I love life and hope that others find love and joy in this experience as well.

When a persons' soul existence is to not only live by a bunch of rules "just because _____" (God said so, my pastor said so, my parents said so...), but to then decide everyone else should live by their scared and very very afraid view of life and the world around them, I get angry. Life isn't meant to be lived in a bubble, it isn't meant to be posted on a piece of paper all starting with "Don't do _____," and it certainly isn't meant to be dictated by another's sense of right and wrong...

Life is meant to be lived. That includes the mistakes we all make, the "lack of imagination" we all experience daily, the forging of paths we know others have taken, just less often than most...

Life is short, death is certain, and taxes are a pain in the ass. Happiness is fleeting, but happiness is also a choice. I believe this to be true more so than I believe in picking a book based on its cover (after all, if the author and editor can't think of something both pleasing and creative, how pleasing and creative could the book possibly be?--I know, I probably just lost credit from a lot of you...).

When someone comes along and says "You must do such-and-such," or "You mustn't do this-and-that," one must consider both the source and the reasoning behind the rule being espoused.

Music was the choice my father tried to take away from us (banning certain radio stations and such) while my mother played anything with a steel guitar (or a fiddle) with wild abandon...

Life is like music. Different instruments, different rhythms, different styles speak to all sorts of different people. And saying everyone must live their lives by "It Is Well with My Soul"?

That's a life killer. (And yes, that title was picked for a reason...)

If treating your neighbor like yourself is supposed to be the number two rule, why do so many fundamentalists spend their time trying to make their neighbors act like themselves...?

Think about it...

And while you do that, put in something soul-stirring to you, and don't begrudge someone who chooses Alice-in-Chains and seems to be enjoying themselves...

And feel blessed to be a witness to their joy in their choice. Their happiness. Their life.

Counting your blessings means more than just counting your life...

2 comments:

mom said...

hello jason! like this one. :) some music belongs to the snakes, spiders and those horrible lima beans. your dad loved his mom's creamed lima beans so now you know why dad had his problems. :) me, no problems, since i listen to the right kind of music. :) the brain washing did not work right with you kids since all you kids are marching to some questionable music. :) but don't worry i will be kind and not begrudge. if we all go on any road trip we have to take turns on the music we listen to. love and prayers

Sylvia said...

Eagle 106, anyone?
love ya
Red