Gratitude List 1007

This one was from Saturday morning.  It looked interesting & unusual enough to be worth posting.  So I posted it.  

1. Slept about 5 hours, a little after 10 till around 3. Slept deeply.

2. At some point yesterday, I became really tired, in a good way. Tired of always feeling like I have to prove myself. It felt good not to need to prove anything to anyone.  It made me feel as though I was already all right.  

3. Apologized to a couple people I’d gotten upset with.  I don’t know that they were necessarily “in the wrong” but it still seemed right to apologize for my overreaction.

4. Felt better after I apologized, and like I could move forward now.

5. There’s a kind of hatred in me when I’m trying to prove myself to people, especially to people I knew from California, or to sheltered people of privilege, or both. Tired of hating on them, tired of returning stigma for stigma.  Tired of the whole thing. It felt so good to let go, when I did let go, and I knew I’d let go.

6. I didn’t have to prove myself anymore to this one guy I ran into the other night, somebody who intimidates me, because he has every positive quality that I lack.  So what?  He’s got his, and I’ve got mine.   The same God created us both.

7. Did all right at the Open Mike and may have made a new friend in this one lady Hanna — or at least a fan. Sang “The Word from Beyond” and it kinda seemed dumb that I’d ever felt I needed to change those lyrics, as though to prove myself, or prove that I’m not New Agey, or whatever it is that makes me weirder than most Christians.  It’s just a damn song in a show, that is to say, a show tune.  And I wrote it.  It speaks for itself.  Tired of proving myself.

8. Woke up and I was different. Tired of sending all these emails to everyone. I want to read, I want to run. Tired of talking all the time, I just want to listen.

9. It felt good to just notate the score last night and make progress and not have to prove that my work is good. My work just is good, it felt good just to do the work and not worry about what anybody thinks of it. If they didn’t think my music was good, they wouldn’t be trying to help me produce my musical.  It felt good just to relax about it all for once.

10. Met an interesting spiritual guy who knows Norman from Campus Christian Center, a Zen kinda dude named Seth. He gave me a ride home from the Open Mike. We probably disagree about prayer, but I didn’t feel like I had to win an argument or anything. Tired of proving myself.

Tired of having to prove myself to money-worshipping money-guzzlers.  Tired of feeling like I should have anything to prove to people of privilege who go around lecturing us poor people on how to live — as if they have any idea what it’s like to be poor, and as if I had any inkling I’d ever want to be rich and become like they are.

Tired of getting pissed off at privileged people’s put-downs and all their hypocritical kick-downs.  I’ll stay poor, I’ll stay starved, I’ll stay complaining to them all.  And the day when they realize I’m not complaining about my lot in life, but only complaining about them — will be one Great Day on the Planet.  Some of these kooks kick down a couple of bucks and expect you to kiss their butts for the rest of your days.  They kick down five, and you’re supposed to change your entire hard-earned value system.  Ten bucks and there goes your political philosophy. 

I’m just tired, I’m done. It feels good. I don’t care about money-lovers, the seeds they plant are rooted in evil.  They’ll get theirs. 

And I’ve got mine!!  I just want to die to self and live to Christ. From now on. Tired and done.

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The Responsibility of Those in Authority

The words of King Lemuel – an oracle his mother taught him.

What shall I say, O my son?
What, O son of my womb?
What, O son of my vows?
Do not spend your strength on women
or your vigor on those who ruin kings.
It is not for kings, O Lemuel,
it is not for kings to drink wine,
or for rulers to crave strong drink,
lest they drink and forget what is decreed,
and deprive all the oppressed of justice.
Give strong drink to one who is perishing,
and wine to the bitter in soul.
Let him drink and forget his poverty,
and remember his misery no more.
Open your mouth for those with no voice,
for the justice of all the dispossessed.
Open your mouth, judge righteously,
and defend the cause of the poor and needy.

–Proverbs 31:1-9

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Lillian

I found this story in a folder containing old timeline posts from around 2015, when I was still homeless.   I submitted it to Alastair Boone, the editor of Street Spirit, for consideration in the January issue.  I hope you gain from these words.   

To say that there are not criminals roaming the streets at all hours of the day and night would do a severe disservice to the truth. But to assume from that observation that every homeless person is a criminal seems a bit pejorative, if you ask me.

Of all the people whom I regularly see at events like the Sunday morning community breakfast, I’m trying to think of who do I know who has not been to jail. Well, let me see here — I haven’t been, and my best African American 50-something friend hasn’t been. That’s about all. Even my best female friend, whom I shall call Lillian, was recently in the Berkeley City Jail for four days.

Which is sick. The woman has had two serious strokes. As a result, she doesn’t speak normally. She has to speak at a louder volume than most, and it takes her a long time to find the words. During the period of time when she is looking to find words, her face makes unusual contortions. But I can guarantee you that her highly intelligent mind knows exactly what she is intending to say. Her neuro-physiological condition only makes her speaking very difficult and uncomfortable.

Homeless Bill of Rights - Building Opportunities for Self ...

This woman has never used drugs other than marijuana, nor does she drink alcohol. People think she is “retarded” because of her stroke. I have even heard people say: “She needs to get off the meth.” I know this person, and others who know her will affirm that she has never used methamphetamine. I am one of the few people who has bothered to get to know her well enough to realize that not only is she not “retarded” — she is actually quite brilliant.

So she’s sleeping in a parking lot on Bancroft, near Peet’s Coffee and Tea, where she meets her Payee in the morning. Three Berkeley City Police cars pull up, tell her she is charged with Trespassing, and hand-cuff her. She tries to explain, in her odd way of forming words: “I was only trying to sleep.” She is then charged with Resisting Arrest.

Two days ago, she comes to my Spot to say she had been in jail for four days. She’s laughing, because she thinks it’s hilarious that someone like her would be sent to jail for something she does every single night; that is to say, sleep. She couldn’t wait to tell me, because, as she says: “I knew you would be sensitive enough to be outraged on my behalf; and insensitive enough to think it was hilarious.”

People who are “retarded” do not come up with such statements. But it’s not hilarious, really. These idiot cops couldn’t tell the difference between a 50-something woman with a serious physical disability, and an irresponsible crook or drug addict invading U.C. campus property. That is just plain sick.

What is the world coming to? It’s getting to where, if you see someone approaching in a wheelchair with a missing leg, you don’t think: “Oh, that’s awful. I wonder how he lost his leg?” You either think: “There’s another hustler, and what does he want from me?” Or else you think: “Look at that screwed up degenerate scum bag.” I swear to God, on a stack of Holy Bibles — this is not the America that I was brought up in.

I am not even asking America to open up her eyes to the plight of her own people. Her eyes are well wide open enough. I ask America to open up her heart – because I am old enough to remember when America was a compassionate nation.

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Tuesday Tuneup 35

Q. Where would you like to be?

A. I would like to be with Jesus Christ, in the Day when there will be a New Heaven and a New Earth.  In that Day I will drink new wine — with Him.  For the form of old wine will have passed, and there will be no drunken stupor, but only the intoxication of the Spirit.  Among us will be many others of the Resurrection Family, as we revel in a realm of unimaginable beauty and glory.   A realm where everybody is equal, and where no one need be told to know the Lord. 

For we will all know Him — from the least to the very greatest.   There will be neither male nor female, neither Greek nor Jew, neither slave nor owner thereof.  For we will all have been loosed from the bonds of oppression, and liberated into the freedom of unhindered, unrestricted, unrestrained Flow of Life.   We will drink freely of the Water in the River of the Water of Life, and in that Baptismal Water, Christ will be born in the hearts of all who live forever in His Spirit.

And God Himself will be among us, and we will be His people, and He will be our God.  And in that Day we will need no lamp, nor light from the sun, for the Lord God will give us Light.   And God will wipe every tear from our eyes.

The Questioner is Silent.

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Gratitude List 1001

1. Despite being once again bent out of shape over family difficulties, I turned in my article for Street Spirit on time last night, and even think I did a good job.  

2. Once again, I had the experience of feeling hassled over personal issues when I was outside trying to work in a coffee shop last night, and then moments later, walking through my front door and immediately being overwhelmed with gratitude and a sense of the love of God.

3. Very much enjoyed playing piano for the two nursing homes yesterday afternoon.  It is a particular blessing to be playing a Wurlitzer spinet at Aspen, identical to the one I grew up with, on which I first learned how to play a piano.

4. Heard from my friend Guy, who is a pianist, a singer, and an Acting teacher.  He gave me a great compliment on Holiday, beginning with the word “Wow” and again affirmed for me that it’s hard to believe that this sound quality came from a smartphone only. 

5. Had a auspicious 10-minute scheduled phone call with my editor that may lead to more work writing articles for other newspapers where she has worked.

6. Though my ingrown or distrophic left toenail snapped open when I tried to put on a pair of socks last night, I’m lucky I had some benzocaine on hand so I could apply the local anesthetic and yank it off myself, thus saving an expensive trip to a doctor whom I probably wouldn’t trust with my toenail anyway.

7. Looking forward to Christmas Eve services at my church tonight.

8. Though I awakened at three in the morning once again troubled over a family member, the Gregorian chant I just put on is helping me realize that I really can get some needed sleep again, and that things will probably look brighter in the morning.

9. Nice to have a place of my own where my sleep is uninterrupted by external insanity and cruelty.

10. If celibacy was good enough for Jesus, St. Paul, and St. Francis, then it is certainly good enough for me.  Very very thankful at this moment to be alone with the God who has blessed my solitude by permitting me to accomplish a plethora of creative, meaningful work that no living situation in the past has fostered.  Thank God for the God of Peace.  

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Who Has Woe?

Who has woe? Who has sorrow?
Who has contentions? Who has complaints?
Who has needless wounds? Who has bloodshot eyes?
Those who linger over wine,
those who go to taste mixed drinks.
Do not gaze at wine while it is red,
when it sparkles in the cup
and goes down smoothly.
In the end it bites like a snake
and stings like a viper.
Your eyes will see strange things,
and your mind will utter perversities.
You will be like one sleeping on the high seas
or lying on the top of a mast:
“They struck me, but I feel no pain!
They beat me, but I did not know it!
When can I wake up
to search for another drink?”

–Proverbs 23:29-35

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Tuesday Tuneup 34

Q. Where would you like to be?

A. Good question.

Q. Is that all you’re going to say?

A. No.

Q. Then what else are you going to say?

A. I don’t know.

Q. Why don’t you know?

A. Because I’m not sure where I would like to be.

Q. Why not?

A. I’m not sure.  I just feel kinda drained.

Q. Why do you think that is?

A. Pushing myself too hard lately.

Q. How so?

A. I got triggered a few nights ago.   Stuff kept me up, couldn’t sleep.  And to tell the truth, I haven’t been sleeping well lately much at all.  When I lose sleep, I get overamped.  Nervous energy.  Nowadays, they say “manic” — but I don’t like to toss that word around idly.  Still, I’ve been sleeping less, eating less, working more, exercising more, overreacting to stuff — I don’t know.  It just burns me out.  The body/mind can only take so much of it, and I eventually crash.

Q. You say you’re burned out?

A. Yes. Burned out.

Q. Then why don’t you take a nap?   Do you have time?

Ahome sweet home. Yes, I have time.  And I ought to take a nap.  I really ought to.  It’s raining, I went to the grocery store, I brought the groceries in, my pastor was nice enough to give me a ride . . . and I’ve been so bummed about certain things lately, I’ve been escaping into all this work, as though to justify or vindicate myself — to make myself strong during a personal storm.

But you know what?  When I walked through that door with those groceries, and I heard the rain outside, something just came over me.  Like tears.  I actually have my own apartment.  I actually can buy groceries.  There’s actually somebody in my life who would drive me to the grocery story in the rain, who would wait for me in the car.

I am human now.  I am a human being.  I am not a piece of shit.  I never was a piece of shit.  I thought I was a piece of shit — because I had become homeless.  And because a lot of people think that homeless people are pieces of shit.   I believed it so much, I internalized it.   And then I felt I had to prove myself all the harder.

But I’m beginning to realize something.  I don’t have to prove myself at all.  I’m who I am.  I’m a human being.  I am loved.

So if I don’t know where I would like to be right now, then maybe I’m missing the point.  Why should I like to be anywhere else than in this nice quiet apartment, listening to the rain outside?  Three years ago that rain would be raining right on me.

Why should I be anything but thankful I was able to make my own sandwich and cook my own pasta?  What more do I need on a day like this?  It was hell down there.  And it’s heaven right now.   Does anybody have to prove themselves in heaven?  Why should I be anywhere other than where I am right now?  And why would I need anything other than this?

The Questioner is silent.

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Awake the Dawn

This offering is a spin-off on the large choral number entitled “Awake the Dawn” that is featured in my new musical Eden in Babylon.  Although it essentially captures the spirit of the piece, it also involves improvisations around other songs that I have written over the years.

“Awake the Dawn” is a biblical expression found in two of the Psalms of David.  It’s Sunday; it’s early in the morning — c’mon people!  Let’s all Awake the Dawn.

“Awake the Dawn” from Eden in Babylon.  Copyright © 2018 by Andrew M. Pope.

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Beyond Neurosis

Beyond neurosis, there lies reality.

It wasn’t neurosis that made me come up with the ten disclaimers, essentially telling my followers they shouldn’t even bother listening to the song, and then posting the song the next morning anyway.

I wasn’t being bipolar when I was one way one day and one way the next. For beyond neurosis, beyond bipolarity, there lies this thing called reality.

And reality can sometimes be the last thing the Artist wants to face. In fact, maybe the fact that the Artist doesn’t like to face reality is the reason why the Artist became an Artist in the first place.

Maybe, at some long-forgotten age old time of childhood, a little boy learned something about reality that he just couldn’t handle.

Maybe his childhood was so idyllic, and he loved his parents so much, that he couldn’t handle finding out that there was this thing called “death” that would take away his father one day, and take away his mother, and eventually take away his own self.

Maybe that was so painful that for two whole years he looked around at all the people doing normal things, and thought painful thoughts of despair. “Why is that guy washing his car?” the child would ask himself. “Doesn’t he know he could die tomorrow? And what would a clean car be to him then?”

Maybe the child turned from about five to about seven, and suddenly realized he kinda knew how to do things like play Old MacDonald and Mary Had a Little Lamb on a piano, and write little children’s songs, and draw pretty pictures with colored pencils, and write little fairy tales and nursery rhymes, and sing silly songs long into the night, while pretending his fingernails were ice skates, his fingers the skaters, and the sheets of his bed the skating rink, where round and round the skaters would skate, and skate themselves out of their pain.

Maybe he figured that God’s creation was just too painful to face. So he created his own creations, and found pleasure in what he decided to create – a pleasure that cancelled out for a season, the pain of the creation that was God’s.

Whatever the case, it was not neurosis that issued the disclaimers, nor was it bipolar of me to be one guy one day, and another fellow the next. For on the third day, he rose, and he realized reality.

The reality he did not want to face.

The reality is that the song straight-up, flat-out sucks. And he knew it from the start. He wanted to be cute. He wanted to entertain. He wanted to fool people into thinking that he didn’t know the song would turn out as badly as the song in fact turned out. So he went for high drama, like the Actor that he can be, and played his show of neurosis to the hilt.

The truth is, he was never neurotic. The truth is that he knew all along the reality that he did not feel he could face. The reality is what it is.

The song sucks — and that’s reality.

But maybe the song needed to suck, because the Artist needed to face the music, and learn a needed lesson. Maybe the lesson he needed to learn is the reality all Artists must one day face.

For the creation of the Artist is by no means superior to the creation of the Reality.  And that creation is not of the Artist.  The creation of Reality belongs to God.

Image result for creation of God the Artist

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More About Artistic Neurosis

Note: I wrote all this before I posted the messed up piano piece and then deleted it.  I’m not really all that neurotic, am I?  Seems to me the thing really did suck. 

For those of you have been expecting a Friday piano piece, I’m writing rather nervously to let you know that it’s happening and is being slowly uploaded as we speak.

That’s the good news.   As for the bad news, well — I don’t want to say the news is exactly bad, but I do have a couple handfuls of disclaimers to divulge.  

Ahem.

(1) The song I decided to play is the big opening choral number in the last scene of Act One of my recently completed musical, Eden in Babylon.   I must disclaim myself by admitting that I have never played this piece on the piano before.

(2) The number is about 8 minutes long in the real show, but since I had never played it before, I kept forgetting where I was going, and it wound up being 13 minutes long.

(3) My convoluted process of getting it off of my recording device (which on my present budget happens to double as a Galaxy J-3 Tracfone), is so arduous that I doubt the upload will be complete by the 7:30 am Friday deadline.   I will, however, get it to you tomorrow, as promised.

Image result for musical masterpiece clipart(4) Another reason why it was 13 minutes long is that at one point when I couldn’t figure out where I was supposed to go, I drifted into a song I wrote back in ’74, called “When Feelings are Few.”   Actually played almost the entire song before I found out a way to return to the originally intended theme.

(5) There is a mistake that I thought was so God-awful at the time, I couldn’t help but laugh quite distastefully at my own error.  Then, true to usual process, the only thing that makes it sound like a mistake was that the fact that I was laughing at it.

(6) I was in an ego-driven state of passionate pride at the time of my performance, which caused my body to contort in an unseemly fashion when I was really “getting into it.”

(7) I interrupted my performance between the 2nd and 3rd movements of the piece to let you all know verbally at least half of these disclaimers, not yet realizing I was destined to nervously announce them in advance by recklessly composing the spontaneous admission of artistic neurosis that you are now reading.  (And incidentally, probably wondering why you’re still reading it.)

(8) I then forgot entirely how the 3rd movement begins, until I remembered that it’s the song otherwise known as Daylight, which I then proceeded to play in the wrong key.   (And I never did get to the “B” part of the tune, because I kept searching for the right key in frustration.   “A” part wasn’t too bad, however.)

(9) Piece is disjointed and chaotic on the whole.   (But at least if felt good) . . .

(10) I had intended to play a light-hearted smooth jazz piece of about three and a half minutes long, but just before my fingers hit the keys I forgot which piece I had wanted to play.  

So, after a brief announcement, I quite impulsively endeavored to play Awake the Dawn on the piano, because that’s just kinda the way it rolled.  (The link is to a Finale-generated version using the Garritan Personal Orchestra, just in case anyone’s down to hear how it’s *really* supposed to sound before deciding whether or not to proceed to the impending 13-minute elaboration thereof.)

Whew! Glad I got all that out of my system.  Now I can relax.  :)

See y’all tomorrow!

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Tuesday Tuneup 33

Q. Where would you like to be?

A. In a place of peace.

Q. Are you at war?

A. Yes.

Q. With whom?

A. With my enemies, of course.

Q. And who are your enemies?

A. Good question.  I tend to think that there are two of them — two young rapscallions from the hood, deluded young gentlemen who are often ringing my doorbell at odd hours of the night, for lengthy periods of time, and only to request annoying favors of me.

Q. These two young rapscallions — are they truly your ememies?

A. Probably not.   My enemies are probably more internal than external.  

internal enemyQ. What do you mean by that?

A. Well you know, I have all these inner blocks or demons that try to prevent me from staying the course, from keeping to what I’m about, and all that.

Q. But if a guy rings your doorbell at three in the morning, and keeps ringing and knocking until you finally give up and go answer it, and you can’t get back to sleep, how is that your fault in any way?

A. You know something, you’re right.  Almost any O.G. would not be able to get to sleep after something like that!

Q. So why are you being such a pushover?

A. That’s the internal enemy I’m talking about.  I’m a pushover.  The Kid knows that once a month, I’m going to be available to walk down to the nearest ATM and get him money for his chewing tobacco.   So what I’ve got to do is just say NO and say it firmly.  

Q. Why haven’t you done this already?

A. He keeps catching me off guard.  Both of them do — the other one’s not so flagrantly nefarious – but he’s still got his angle.  And his angle involves me, because—

Q. Because?

A. Because I’m a pushover.  And worse yet, I just told the whole world about it.  Pretty soon, every rambunctious rapscallion in town will be knocking on my door.  On MY door!  On the lockable, locked door that I EARNED – after putting in twelve hard years on the streets, where there was no door to be locked, or even to offer the slightest separation from me and all the evils of the night.  What a fool I am to willfully descreate and violate the sanctity of my sanctuary!   Damn, I’m pissed.

Q. And now?

A. And now what?  I just have to make the internal change, and enforce it, and be firm about it.  It’s like — a life lesson.  It’s something I’m supposed to learn here, while I’m on this Earth, and take it to the next stage of experience, when I’m not.

Q. You think so?

A. Sounds good to me.   Not knowing how to stand up for myself and say NO to people landed me in a gutter for over ten years.  I daresay I shan’t make the same mistake twice.

The Questioner is Silent.

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Gratitude List 981

(1) I awoke at 7am and noticed immediately that I was no longer depressed or lonely, but was feeling like my usual, chipper self once again, thank God.  

(2) Thankful to feel like I am functioning more-or-less normally.  There is a great sense of promise and potential when one realizes that one is no longer saying and doing things that are inexplicably weird, totally bizarre, and distastefully out of character.

(3) Slept from about 5:30pm till only 1am, as I’d feared.  The good news is that I got back to sleep at around 4 and slept till 7, waking up refreshed.  Even better news is having a place to stay when I wake up at odd hours of the night.   For a lot of my life, I did not.

(4) Noticed and skimmed a nice email from my friend in Scotland across the waves.

(5) Starting my 3rd cup of free Pikes Peak coffee at the Courtyard Café.

(6) Scraped up an old laptop I can use outside of the house.  While it has many problems, thankfully music notation software is not one of them.   Observe:

(7) There may be a small paycheck in today’s mail.  Also, I can probably sell more Exile albums if I get back in the groove of it.

(8) I’m in a good mood this morning.   I no longer feel threatened by my own personality.  Stay this way for a while, and I will do great things.

(9) Lots of promise, lots of potential, comes of just one’s being oneself.

(10) His blessings are new every morning.  Great is His faithfulness.

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Gratitude List 973

1. Although I woke up after only three hours sleep at around 2:30am feeling horribly mentally unhealthy as well as morally and spiritually incompetent, enough positivity has been mustered up since then to renew my hope.

2. One of the (very minor) frustrations on my mind this morning was an inability to find my nail clipper, but at the moment in the morning when I remembered to pray for God’s help at the beginning of the day, I looked down onto the kitchen counter, and there it was sitting by the microwave.  I like it when this kind of thing happens.  It of course has nothing to do with resolving any of the more major frustrations, but it does sort of give one the impression that God’s got his back.

3. Nice email update from Erika this morning and was able to write a proper reply.  This also came one day after I was getting a nudge to email her, so that part’s also good.

4. Heard from Timbo upon my request, who used to be a peer counselor at the Recovery Center.  It was good to go over some of my current issues with him, so as to get a new and valuable perspective.

5. Sold another Exile CD.   Grateful to have made eight such sales in the past three days.  It’s a ray of hope at an otherwise very trying time.

6. I really like my church.  I was depressed yesterday morning, but the fellowship lifted me up.   Certain members of the church are beginning to approach me with homeless themes, and I get a sense of respect from them that I haven’t often found elsewhere, until very recently in life.

7. Although this is a very problematical time for me in terms of a personal family crisis, it’s having the effect of causing me to create about three times as many gratitude lists as usual.  They do help, along with other tools, to renew my hope in Christ and in the future of humanity on this planet.  

8. I’ve noticed that I forget about my problems when I work on the Eden in Babylon vocal score.  This is a good thing, because it gives me more motivation to get it done, and I really do need to have a draft of it ready by the 31st, in order to meet a certain deadline.

9. It’s always darkest before the dawn.

10. This too shall pass.  

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