A little slow to get moving this morning. I woke with a familiar devil in my gut. Fortunately for me, I have tools at hand to banish it, at least to a corner. It will likely squat there for awhile, glaring at me and growling to get back in. It will stay in that corner until it evaporates from lack of attention. I'm a wizard. My tools are internal, summoned silently and instantaneously.
Except when they're not. Occasionally I dig into that other bag. Its tools are a little more cumbersome but just as effective and only a little slower. Music and work.
Technology is beautiful. Pandora and "Wish You Were Here" by Pink Floyd. If you haven't read these lyrics, or haven't in awhile, you might want to. No one loves this song more than me, and in the back of my mind I hear a soft protest against ripping the words away from the music. But doing so adds another layer. Reading is different from listening. Not better or worse, just different. Your brain knows this. So I read the lyrics, again. These words center me. They're in my bag of tools and might not fit yours.
So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell,blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl,
year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have you found?
The same old fears.
But there they are. Powerful words for me. Find yours and keep them close. I pour a cup of coffee. I tie my apron. I'm going to work, happy to be wherever this is. Yup. I'm a wizard. And so are you.
I've tied my morning apron on about 7,480 times, so far.
Hope your day is good. Thanks for being here with me.
13 comments:
"Go placidly amid the noise and the haste and remember what peace there may be in silence."
From Desiderata.
This poem is posted on the inside of my outside door so that I see it whenever I leave the quietness that is my home and sanctuary.
gigi: That's a powerful totem you carry in your head. Thank you.
I carry:
Be like the bird, who
Halting in his flight
On limb too slight
Feels it give way beneath him,
Yet sings
Knowing he hath wings.
-Victor Hugo
Hi Arwenn: Do you carry it as a thought only or do you have a physical token of some sort?
Just the thought although I really ought to have a physical copy.
Maybe even just a representation - a bird and branch on a piece of jewelry perhaps.
As usual I come away from your blog with all kinds of ideas!
Mine is the Litany Against Fear:
I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
~Dune, Frank Herbert
Maybe this isn't quite the vibe you guys are giving, but my Song of the Day is "Don't Rain on my Parade" by Barbra Streisand.
Don't tell me not to live
just sit and putter
Life's candy and the
sun's a ball of butter
Don't bring around a cloud
to rain on my parade
Don't tell me not to fly
I've simply got to
If someone takes a spill
it's me and not you
Who told you you're allowed to
rain on my parade?
I'll march my band out
I'll beat my drum
And if I'm fanned out
Your turn at bat, sir
at least I didn't fake it
Hat, sir
Guess I didn't make it
But whether I'm the rose
of sheer perfection
A freckle on the nose of
life's complexion
a cinder or the
shiny apple of its eye
I gotta try once
I gotta fly once
Only can die once
Right sir
Ooh, love is juicy
Juicy and you see
I'm gonna have my bite, sir
Get ready for me love,
cause I'm a comin'
I simply gotta march
my heart's a-drummin'
Nobody's gonna rain on my parade
I write more than I paint or sculpt (I am not very good at either, though I get inspired to take them up again), but oftentimes, when I get stuck, one of my tools is to visit artists' blogs, including yours. I always close the window on your blog ready to resume my story. Thank you for that.
I guess it just seemed like the time to voice that, and wave hello.
Arwenn: I hear you. I'm wanting to make something. Poppet already is a totem. For many of us, Poppet is a reminder to take an alternate view. It's a strong one for me.
But our mantras are varied and personal. I'm thinking of something that we could carry as a group but would incorporate our individual bits.
I'm thinking.
Stacey: I remember that bit well. It's a good one and rings so true. Thanks for reminding me.
Amber: If this is your song of the day and it gets you over the hurdles, you go, girl. I enjoyed reading the words without the music. It makes me appreciate it more.
Sabrina: You have no idea how good a time. Thank you for that.
from Regina Spektor's "On the Radio":
This is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath
No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again
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