Faith, Science and Masks

Just had my 8th column published in Spokane Faith and Values.  It’s an effort to find commonality between people of faith and those of science, and to urge all my fellow believers to please wear their masks.  

Science and Masks: Why Christians Ought to Listen

These days more than ever, we find ourselves caught up in talk of an alleged conflict between science and religion. This has been dramatized by the controversy around the issue of wearing a mask. In general, those who wear masks understand and believe the recommendations of the World Health Organization and the Center for Disease Control. These recommendations are based, in a general way, on findings of science.

In general, those who decline to wear masks are skeptical as to these recommendations. Many people don’t trust science, especially if they are influenced by our current administration.  The president and others in his circle continually downplay the benefits of scientific research. Also, many religious people don’t trust science, on the basis that the One whom we’re supposed to be trusting is God.   

That this distrust should have come about is only natural. Scripture adjures us not even to trust in “man” or our fellow humans, so complete is our understanding of the Divine as being the only One who is worthy. “Cursed are those who put their trust in mere humans, who rely on human strength and turn their hearts away from the LORD.” – Jeremiah 17:5 NLT.  Ultimately, God is the only One we can completely depend upon and rely on. We should be wary of placing our trust in anything or anyone else, lest we fall prey to idolatry, and make other objects of our devotion more important to us than God.

It is also pretty easy to understand why some scientists may be skeptical of certain religious principles as well as religious people. The principle of faith, so essential to Christian practice, is often presented in such a way as to render it incompatible with reason.  But faith and reason are not mutually exclusive. If faith and reason were mutually exclusive, there would never be a Bible Study. We would never scour the Scriptures in search of wisdom and revelation. For all these matters are gained through reasoning.  “Come, let us reason together,” says the Lord (Isaiah 1:18), Biblical study is not at all an unreasonable pursuit, and it has attracted some of the most intelligent and logical people I’ve known.

But in deference to the skepticism of some scientists, there is also such a thing as “blind faith.” This is the form of “faith” that does not question what it is being told, usually by a human voice that one has come to depend upon for truth.   But no human represents the truth perfectly. In fact, excellent liars are skillful at using the truth to obfuscate their lies. So when a person decides not to wear a mask because they “trust in God, not in science,” it is unconvincing, because the attitude in that facsimile of faith is blinded to any ongoing search for truth.

I once had a job in which my boss had to pick me every morning at a train station and drive me up steep, curvy mountainous roads until we arrived at the job site.  Two things about her driving disturbed me.  First, she drove alarmingly close to the cars in front of us.  Secondly, she never wore a seat belt.

While I of course wore a seat belt, it was small consolation. So I asked her why she had to drive so close to the cars ahead of us.  She told me flat out that because of her faith, we would not get into an accident.

Somehow this was not reassuring.  If she wanted to risk her life in that fashion, that’s one thing. But should I have to die because the person driving me won’t wear a seat belt and won’t stop tailgating? It seems to me that this is analogous to the quandary one finds around the topic of wearing a mask.  I may well never catch the virus, or be harmed by it. But someone a few feet away from me may not be so lucky.  Why should I endanger them by refusing to wear a mask, if it can help them? Similarly, why should my boss have endangered me by refusing to keep a decent distance from the cars in front of us?

It doesn’t seem that to refrain from tailgating is a particularly huge sacrifice to make, when one considers the possibly lethal consequences of tailgating.  Unless one has a medical condition that causes wearing a mask to endanger them, I don’t think that to wear a mask is an unreasonable sacrifice, either. I have found it a mild inconvenience, at worst.

So let’s look at how a scientist will naturally feel when confronted with this disagreeable opinion, having been offered no proof as to why it is believed as firmly as it is, other than the strength of a “faith” that seems subjective and inexplicable at best. If I were a scientist, and somebody told me flat out that to wear a mask was unnecessary — perhaps even ungodly — and that all their scientific research is useless, I would naturally be skeptical, if not insulted.  That person has given me no reason to be persuaded of their position.  

If, on the other hand, the person says something along the lines of: “You know what? I cannot prove the existence of God. But many things have happened in my life that are best explained by the agency of some kind of invisible superpower who is concerned with my affairs, and who pretty much lines up with the biblical description of God.  Would you like to hear what some of these events have been?”

I have never received a scornful response from a scientist when I have introduced my testimony in such a fashion. Worst I get in such a scenario is:  “Perhaps some other time.” But scorn or mockery is not generally received by scientists in such a situation.  

Why not?  Because the scientific method is essentially a search for truth. I frame my Christian conversion as the result of a search for truth, and I tell people that my search for truth has not stopped there — because Jesus is the Truth — and if I am to claim devotion to Him, then I am to continually seek Him.  Otherwise, I fall prey to complacency, and feel falsely that I have “arrived.”  (1 Cor 10:12, Philippians 3:12). 

People may disagree with my characterization of Christ as personifying the truth, but they cannot refute that my Christian experience has come about somehow as the effect of my personal search for truth. Because the scientific method is also a search for truth, it would seem that this commonality is a lot deeper than many of the supposed incompatibilities between religion and science.

At the very least, it’s a starting point. What is sad is when we as believers become so set in our own assessments of current events — often differing not widely from what we hear from our own pastors and from the particular teachers whom we follow — that we blind ourselves to further seeking. We ought all to listen to the well thought-out positions of others, even if — no, especially if — we disagree. 

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Tuesday Tuneup 81

Q. What’s happening now?

A. Expansion.

Q. And before that?

A. Contraction.

Expanding Your Mind – Learning For Success – Learning Mind

Q. How did it feel to be contracting?

A. Not good.  I felt pressured, for one thing.

Q. And for another?

A. Restricted.  I felt restricted.

Q. And what else?

A. Intruded upon.  It felt very intrusive.

Q. What kind of intrusion?

A. Intrusive thoughts.

Q. About what?

A. About situations far beyond my control.   Not only can I not control those kinds of situations, but I cannot control my thoughts when I start to think about them.

Q. Really?   You can’t just will those thoughts away?

A. Not exactly.  Best course is just to let them run their course and try not to be bothered by them in the meantime.

Q. How long does that usually take?

A. It depends on how bad the contraction is.   Earlier tonight it was a good half hour.  Probably the first half hour of a brisk four mile walk.

Q. And on the second half hour?

A. I expanded.

Q. How does expansion feel?

A. Very good!   I feel no pressure whatsoever.   I am not at all restricted.  Nothing is tugging at me or eating at me.   I feel open to receiving good things.

Q. What kind of good things?

A. Musical motives and phrases.   New ideas, new plans.   Respect from others, from people who count.   Love and support, where it matters.

Q. Anything else?

A. Beautiful things.  Things that come true, and only later do you remember having dreamed they would.   Levity, and gladness of heart.  Mirth, and gentle merriment.

Q. All this comes from expansion?

A. All this and more.

Q. Then why not expand always?   Why ever contract?

A. Why ever exhale?   Why not always inhale?

Q. What do you mean?

A. The Universe has to breathe, doesn’t it?

The Questioner is silent. 

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Gratitude List 1563

(1) Even though I haven’t run for almost a week, I’m still losing weight.  Bike rides of up to ten miles, plus brisk walks of two to four miles, are helping.   I’m grateful for the new role of daily outdoor exercise, in providing a healthy change-up from sheltering in place.

(2) The interactive scoring of the third number of my musical is coming along.   Grateful for this new “solo project,” which appears to be ideal for working from home.   

(3)  Last Tuesday we held the first scene rehearsal on Zoom with the new people, Cody and Keva.   I was amazed at how well it went.   We’re also meeting at the church tomorrow to learn the singing, and there’s another scene rehearsal online on Thursday, hopefully with additional people to fill out the missing parts.   Despite the obvious obstacles, a momentum is taking place.   

(4) I really enjoyed the weekly book study on Zoom on Wednesday — we’re going through America’s Original Sin: Racism, White Privilege, and the Bridge to a New America by Jim Wallis.   This is an important and timely theme, one that ought not be shirked.   I’m honored to be able to participate in this study, and in the sharing of experiences with others.    

(5) This past Sabbath was in a way the most effective, in that I actually succeeded in resisting the temptation to work, all throughout the twenty-four hours.   As a result, all the work I’ve done since then seems somehow blessed, because I kept that day holy.  Somehow throughout Saturday I felt as though the Universe were expanding, and my own role expanding, as well.  It was as though, as soon as I stopped to listen, I could hear the Universe breathe.    

Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal.”
    — Albert Camus 

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Somebody Gave Easily (Part Two)

In four days, it will be four years that I have lived indoors, after years and years of living outside, mostly on urban city streets.   And I’m not sure if anyone’s noticed this, but I am often very disappointed in myself. 

It seems to me that these days I have been granted a huge amount of freedom, compared to how restricted my freedom has been in the past.   Yet I do not use this new freedom to its highest advantage.  My life is full of the very opportunities I so longed for, during all the years when I was homeless.   But I do I use those opportunities to their fullest?    

I have a shower – a bathtub even.   How often have I relaxed and sat down and drawn a nice hot bath?    Twice, I believe, in three years inside this apartment.   I have a dishwasher.  Do I use it?   I have a carpet.   Do I vacuum it?   I have an ironing board.  But do I iron my shirts?   What’s wrong with me?   I have a bed, a couch, and a few comforters.   But do I even have a pair of pajamas?   Half the time I sleep in my street clothes — just as I used to, when I slept on the streets.  

I have a piano now.  I have two home computers now.  I have music production software.   I have the capability to create high-quality sound files and videos, both on computer and on smartphone –– which is something I also have.  Not to mention, I can type all night if I want to, and nobody is going to complain about the constant pitter-patter.  I have space.  I have options.  I have freedom.   But do I fully utilize that freedom?  I don’t think I do.   Why am I not more grateful?

When I was homeless,  I didn’t have any of those things.  Like, for years.  Thoughts of “if only” often intruded my prayers.  I would be looking up to the sky at night, and saying things like: “If only I can ever get inside again — and not one of these facilities where they throw all the homeless people — places with all kinds of restrictions and curfews, where they confiscate your laptop along with your belt and your shoelaces, and they won’t even let you outside without supervision, much less trust you to go out for a jog and back.   If only I could ever have my own place  — if only . . .”

The inner assumption with “if only” is that it will never actually occur.  It was therefore painful to dwell on it.  Painful, yet inevitable.  All throughout my day to day existence, I was feeling the lack.    (Again, just the opposite of what I feel nowadays.)

Lack of money to get myself inside temporary situations where they would let me do my thing.   Lack of free power outlets where I could plug in my laptop.   Lack of sufficient change to warrant stays in coffeehouses.  Lack of supportive people who respected me as an Artist — or even as a man, as a father, as a human being.   And of course, there was the big one — lack of a roof over my head.  

And even worse: lack of confidence that there will ever again be a roof over my head.   

To get that roof, I would need money.  Usually, there was a direct proportion between the amount of money I raised, and the number of recommendations for affordable living situations that then came my way.

Invariably, these recommendations carried with them a price that was equal to or greater than the monetary price of admission.  The price was not only in the area of a restriction of personal freedoms, but also in the area of an imposition of potentially punitive rules and regulations, geared toward keeping the peace in an environment comprised largely of street criminals, practicing alcoholics and drug addicts, and people with severe, untreated mental health conditions.

The places I refer to are halfway houses, rehabs, homeless shelters, transitional living facilities, psychiatric institutions, board & care homes, and other group living situations.  All of these naturally carried a price tag that exceeded the relatively low amount of money one would need for admission.  Naturally, huge manuals full of restrictions and ultimatums were developed in order to accommodate such a freaky clientele.   But between the excess of regulation, and the intimidating influence of the inhabitants themselves, I found I had a very low tolerance for these kinds of living arrangements.  I might have lasted a few weeks or even months, but ultimately I always came to a place where living outdoors seemed preferable.

Living outdoors, there was at least the semblance of freedom.   Living in a shelter felt like being trapped in a glorified jailhouse.  Now — one might be taken aback by the expression “glorified jailhouse.” So let’s look a bit more closely at what it means.   

A jailhouse is a place where one lives if one has committed a crime.   While one may not necessarily have committed any crimes in order to be admitted into a homeless shelter, there are certainly enough people entering into shelters who have committed crimes, that the criminal element of the clientele must be taken into consideration.   So restrictions and ultimatums are developed according to the least common denominator.

The problem with this is that the person seeking shelter who is not criminally minded is suspected of criminality just the same as another person to whom the least common denominator might more justifiably apply.  This criminalization comes not only from the higher-ups at the shelter, but also from many who are living there and coexisting alongside each other.   One gets the sense that, while one had left the streets in order to remove oneself from an atmosphere that entailed great suspicion, one had instead relocated to an atmosphere of even greater suspicion and distrust.  

In leaving such an facility, on deciding to return to the streets of preference, I always felt as though I were leaving a place where my freedoms were very severely restricted, in favor of a place where my freedoms were less severely restricted.   And the cost factor was less, as well.  

But the cost factor involved in acceding to a dignified living situation was greater.   I remember having $1000 once, because I had been prepaid half the fee of musical-directing a children’s show.   The director hired me over Craigslist, and she didn’t know I was homeless.  I was in San Francisco at the time, so I took the $1000 down to what they called a Twelve Step House, which was really a cheaply run rehab organization that then offered me a room with a roommate in a house with twelve other men in exchange for $700.  This seemed the easiest way to get inside quickly, which after all I would need to do, now that I had a job.

But what would have been the cost factor involved in getting my own place?   As a renter, that would mean a first and last month’s rent, plus deposit.  I remember at the time of my leaving the Bay Area, a friend of mine was paying $1800/mo. for his one bedroom apartment.  By that gauge, I would need $3600 to start, plus whatever the security deposit turned out to be, could be another $1800, not unlikely.   The point is that the obstacles toward my securing a place of my own liking were pretty sizable.  That is, as long as I remained in the San Francisco Bay Area.

Moving up to North Idaho was about the smartest thing I did in maybe fifteen years or more.   Here I have a one-bedroom for $450 in a nice secluded spot with quiet, friendly neighbors, in a town with an extremely low crime rate.   An apartment like this could cost me $3000 or more right now in San Francisco.  And yet, my retirement income is exactly the same, here there or everywhere.   

I always wonder why I didn’t do it sooner.  But I stop wondering when I remember the true reason.

Low self-esteem.   If you’re treated like a criminal, if you’re continually demeaned and brought to think that you are somehow worse or lesser than the people around you — only because you have become homeless — it eventually gets to you.   I imagine people of higher self-esteem might have brought themselves up by their own bootstraps a bit sooner than I did.  But I basically felt so ashamed of having become homeless, that I bought into all the self-definitions that people were laying on me.  The upside of this ultimately was that it took a gigantic leap in my self-esteem for me to decide, in July 2016, to make the relatively few moves I needed to make in order to start a new and better life.

Don’t get me wrong.  It wasn’t just being criminalized.   Poor people and people of color are criminalized.   Homeless people are criminalized too — but there’s something that affects homeless people that is even deeper than criminalization.  It’s dehumanization — and people of color will know about this — you’re not just a “criminal” but some kind of “animal” or in some other way, not quite fully human.  Even when your humanity is acknowledged, you are then often not regarded as mature or adult, even though you many be a couple generations older than the authority figure who passes that judgment upon you.

It is not thought that you can make decisions for yourself.   It is assumed that you need caseworkers, and caregivers, and people to make your decisions for you.  Even the simple decision to leave the city of Berkeley was met with much resistance.

Once, when I was considering leaving town, I made mention of this to someone who was in a position of some power in the community, whom I believe was the Director of the Homeless Action Center.  She then asked:  “Where will you go if you’re not in Berkeley?”

“Well, my friend in Georgia might have a room for me.  She has to talk to her husband.”

“Well, I don’t know anything about your friend in Georgia, but I know what it’s like when someone’s starting to have a manic episode!  You start thinking of wanting to take long trips to distant places.”

True.  Sudden spontaneous trips out of town are hallmarks of mania.   But this is besides the point.   Why could this person not “know” that my friend in Georgia might have provided a roof over my head, and that sleeping on the Berkeley city streets would naturally be less preferable than staying with a friend in Georgia inside a house?   Why was it a problem in me — “manic episode” or what-have-you —  to want to not sleep on the Berkeley streets anymore, and sleep inside a warm house — even it meant moving to Georgia?   Did Berkeley own me?

Of course not.   But there were many in that city who acted as though they did.  It was thought that I could not make my own choices.   It was assumed that, because I had become homeless, I had no ability to fend for myself, and someone else ought to be doing it for me.

Once I became friends with somebody who had an official position in the City, and she came and saw me at my Spot after one of the times when I had escaped the halfway house.

“Andy, what are you doing back here?”

“I’m in my sixties, Carmen.   I don’t like being treated like a juvenile delinquent.”

Now another type of person might have said: “Okay, I’ll suck it up.  I’ll be treated like a truant schoolboy for another seven months or so.  It will be worth it to get myself into a better place.”

I respect that reasoning and the implicit patience and strength of character.  But I don’t buy it.   Why not?

There is no evidence that people who treat other people like that have any power to get them into a “better place.”   That power, when it did come — either came from deep inside me, or from God – or some combination thereof.   I had to get to the point where I believed in Andy.   I had to get to the place where I stopped buying into every negative self-definition that was being thrown my way by people who were doing materially better than me.  I had to somehow get with Andy, and know what would work — for Andy.

To be honest, I don’t know how I did it.  I don’t know it how it happened.  There was that prayer I always talk about, that I’ve written about  And there was a lot of sudden resolve.   I don’t know how it happened, really.   I’m just glad it did.

What I’m not glad about is that I’m not more grateful, and that I don’t have as much to show for myself throughout these past four years than I’d hoped.   But maybe I have more to show for myself than I know.

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Gratitude List 1560

(1)  Grateful for a decent six hours of solid sleep after running in the evening last night.  Glad I’ve been sleeping reasonably well lately, in general.

(2)  Painlessly did the 2 1/2 mile course at around sunset yesterday.   I’m definitely both eating less and running more these days.   At this stage, that’s something to be grateful for.  

(3) Amazing that the two new singer-actors K. & C. have emerged, desiring to portray the male and female antagonists in a Scene Two audition preparation.   They’re even learning the song together.   (True that I had something to do with this happening — being as I was the one who asked them if they were interested.   But still, I find it wonderful that two very talented people like K. & C. would actually be interested.)   I’m feeling a lot of gratitude that almost everything that’s happened lately with respect to the musical has been really positive and encouraging.

(4) I gotta say I’m grateful for Finale 26  music notation software and for the very sophisticated Audacity freeware that I use to edit sound files.   I’ve been refining the interactive tracks for the opening number and the second number, and moving on to the third.   I’m grateful to have such an interesting and meaningful project to be working on.

(5) In seven days, God willing, I will have lived in this city and spent every night indoors — usually all alone, usually in quietude, in a dwelling place of my own choosing — for four entire years.  Five years ago I’d have never dreamed it possible.  Oh, I dreamed it all right — but I never thought it would actually happen.  I and everyone else I knew assumed I would die a miserable death in a Bay Area gutter.   Instead, I am a healthy and happy man today.   I am very grateful that I am no longer homeless. 

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The Letter

“The Letter” by Wayne Carlson. This piece was NOT done by Jefferson Airplane, unlike popular media misinformation. It was popularized by a group called the Box Tops, and covered by various Artists — including a spectacular rendition by Joe Cocker. Rolling Stone listed this song as No. 372 on their 500 Best Songs of All Time. Andy Pope at the Baldwin Grand, July 15, 2020.

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Tuesday Tuneup 80

Q. What’s going on inside?

A. Change of plans.

Q. How so?

A. Remember how I used to have you change questions every 22 times?  Well, things are going so slowly these days, I’d like to change that to every 20 times.

Q. Which means?

A. 80 being 4 x 20, we need a new question out of you by July 21st.   Then we can start Tuesday Tuneup 81 with an entirely new question.    

Orange man questions clipart

Q. What kind of question?

A. Well, you should know!  You’re the one who’s been asking them.   The first question, as I recall, was Do you know who I am?”  I believe you asked me that 22 times.    Then, you started asking me: “Where would you like to be?”

Q. Why would I ask you those kinds of questions?

A. Because they’re simple, broad-based, and can be answered a different way every time they’re asked.   Between one Tuesday and the next, I’m bound to have a different answer.

Q. Is that why I’ve been asking you what’s going on inside, too?

A. Yes.  What’s going on inside me will not be the same next Tuesday as it is tonight.  

Q. What kind of question will not work?

A. Any question that has a single absolute answer, regardless of how I might be feeling at the time.

Q. For example?

A. A good example would be: “What is your name?”   If I am to be honest, I will answer that question the same way every Tuesday.   One thing about me that does not change is my name.  

Q. What about you does change, then?

A. My mood, for one thing.   

Q. Will you be in a different mood next Tuesday than you are today?

A. Undoubtedly.   In fact, today I am in a different mood than I was last Tuesday.

Q. What else about you changes?

A. My attitude — my outlook toward life — somewhat related to mood, but perhaps more intentional.

Q. What else?

A. My plans.   What I intend to next.    This changes from one day to the next.

Q. Goodness!   How do you ever get anything done, if your plans change so often?

A.  I work really hard, to make up for it.

Q. Would that be a good question, then?

A. Would what be?

Q. “What are your plans today?”

A. That’s the general idea, yes.   Anything that will vary, from day to day — and from Tuesday till Tuesday.

Q. Should I start asking you that question next week, then?

A. No – not so fast.   That question is just a wee bit boring.    We might be able to come up with a more interesting question — one that will engage me and intrigue me.   If we pick the right question, I may even become motivated to show up every Tuesday.

Q. Will wonders never cease?

A. Probably not.   But getting down to brass tacks here, I think it’s time we choose a new question.   

Q. Who’s we?

A. All of us!   Maybe one of my readers would like to choose the question.

Q. You think so?

A. I do.  And in any case, it won’t hurt to ask.   What do you think?

The Questioner is silent.

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Gratitude List 1556

(1) This morning I ran 4 miles in 57F degrees along Paradise Path.  It was my first decent run in over a week, and it felt really good.   I feel kinda cleansed now, and grateful.      

(2) Enjoyed a second scheduled video chat with my friend Lynne Fisher this morning on WhatsApp.   Thankful for our friendship and for WhatsApp, which makes it seem as though my friend from across the ocean is right there sitting in front of me.   

(3) I keep adding to the arrangement I’ve been working on, and it’s getting closer to being finished.   It will be interesting how it sounds with the singing over it, once we reach that stage.  Thankful for Finale music notation software.  

(4) Rehearsal went well on Tuesday, and it looks as though we’ve another one scheduled for Wednesday.   Thankful that the church has been letting us meet once a week in small groups, observing social distancing.   Even more thankful that most of the progress on the project is being made by individuals sheltering at home.   

(5) I must say once again, I’m thankful for my apartment, that I have all to myself in solitude.  I got up at three in the morning and spent the quiet hours reading and writing as I pleased.   Then, when I came home from running, I downed a Gatorade and plopped down on the sofa exhausted.   Now I’m smelling the coffee.   Sheltering in place is a lot nicer than living in a place where there isn’t any shelter.   Believe me — I’ve done both.   

“Sir, my concern is not whether God is on our side; my greatest concern is to be on God’s side, for God is always right.”
   — Abraham Lincoln 

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Gratitude List 1555

(1) Stocked up on groceries last night during the wee hours.   Glad I didn’t postpone it much longer, it already being the 6th.  Enjoyed a brisk two mile walk to Winko’s, and took a cab back with multiple bags.  Seeing all the food in my cupboard gives me a great sense of abundance.   Chances are, I won’t go hungry for another month — and for that I am grateful.   

(2)  I had begun to think the players were drifting again, but now it appears we’ve been able to manifest a major rehearsal on Tuesday.   The idea is to be ready to film our respective videos on site, and thus successfully add new female back-up vocals to the piece we’re working on.  I suspect it will all come together by Friday.  

(3) Good thing the Kids didn’t resurface for rehearsal till when they did, because in the interim I heard something fantastic in my head.  It’s a beautiful adjustment to the back-up harmonies — much more authentic than the previous harmonies.   Whereas before, I had constructed the harmonies almost arbitrarily according to my knowledge of four-part theory, now the true harmonies are emerging from a place that transcends four-part theory.   (And the Kids show up just in time to sing them!)  

(4) Paid the rent, did the laundry, and am putting things in place.   Enjoying the vigor of  hunkering down for another month of sheltering in a place of my own choosing.

(5) Getting ready for a 7-mile bike ride, for which last night’s brisk 2 mile walk was like a warm-up.  Looking forward to my morning run tomorrow.   When I lived outdoors, I used to feel this rush of gratitude every time I happened to get inside and have a place to myself for a while.   Now I live indoors — and since sheltering in place I’ve discovered that same rush of gratitude every time I step outside to exercise alone.   The Lord works in strange and mysterious ways.  

“Let us temper our criticism with kindness. None of us comes fully equipped.”
—  Carl Sagan  

 

Update

I was fairly certain I’d finish the piece I’m arranging by about now, according to the hope I expressed on Tuesday. I’m not done yet, but not for a bad reason.

Just after I made that allusion, the Kids started turning all their parts for our “Ode to the Universe” project. So I got sidetracked over to what is realistically a higher priority, and wound up doing my own piano track and singing track for the Kids as well.

I’d have told you earlier today, but my computer keeps getting wrapped up in all these uploads — trumpet videos and what-not. When it does, I can’t log on. The uploads might also be faster at some other locale, but here I am sheltering.

Anyway, I canceled one of them just to let you know what’s going on. I’ll have a snippet of “Ode to the Universe” and also the piece I was working on, but I can’t tell you when. Probably later tonight or sometime this weekend.

That said, Happy Fourth of July to whom the holiday applies. And to all, stay tuned and stay safe.

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