Good Work

“What goes on in your innermost being is worth all your love, this is what you must work on however you can and not waste too much time and too much energy on clarifying your attitude to other people.”

Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

As Rilke states, I have my hands full working on myself to spend much time working on you.  It’s not that I’m not empathetic towards you or unconcerned about your situation, it’s just that on any given day I’m too busy dealing with my own issues.

Delving into one’s “innermost being” is hard work.  And usually you need some help. Although the first professional counselor I saw came highly recommended, I went reluctantly. Jack worked out of a room in a United Methodist Church on Signal Mountain, Tennessee.  He was not affiliated as a minister of that church, he just used their room.  I don’t recall the first thing he said to me, but I vividly recall the first thing I said to him.  I said, “I’m uncomfortable with paying you to listen to me.”  And then I remember as he responded with, “Do you want to talk or not?”  And I said that I did.  Like so many people do, at that time I blamed my emotional problems on unresolved issues with my parents, especially my father.  Jack heard me out as I explained that about all my dad ever did was fish and golf and that if I wanted a relationship with him it had to be on his terms.  My counselor, who by now was probably growing annoyed said, “Then I suggest you do some fishing and golfing.” And I did just that.

Over the next ten years I lost count of the trips I took to fish and golf with my father. We golfed at either the Enterprise Country Club or one of the courses near me in the northwest Georgia area.  I never beat him, and few did, but I was at least competitive and we had great fun. We fished quite often at West Bay, Florida or in my grandfather’s pond outside of Enterprise near New Brockton, Alabama. When the Bible says, “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling” who knew you could work it out on a golf course or in a boat holding a rod and reel. We continued to fish and golf after Dad was diagnosed with lung cancer until he was incapable of making the effort.  Whatever I paid that counselor to listen to me and talk to me is worth its weight in gold. Maybe I would have figured it out without him, but I would have wasted precious time.

After I had returned home after Dad’s funeral, the song “The Living Years” by Mike and the Mechanics played on my car’s radio. Hearing the lyrics about unresolved issues and unresolved grief with the writer’s father I was so deeply grateful that Dad and I, without ever having “a talk”, had worked much of it out just by spending that much time together. "I wasn't there that morning when my father passed away. I didn't get to tell him all the things I had to say" thankfully didn't apply to me.  When I cried listening to the song it wasn't for pain or anger; I cried for joy and gratitude.

But all my problems weren’t solved.  I saw my last counselor twenty six years until he retired last fall. Rilke says, “What goes on in your innermost being is worth all your love, this is what you must work on.” After all that time and all that work with Dr. Brown, all of my emotional issues still aren’t resolved. I still need help. I already miss my counselor and friend so much.  But I will always see the smile on his face and hear him as he closed out each session with “Good work.”

"I just wish I could have told him in the living years."   I did tell my father. And he told me. And for that I'm  eternally grateful.  Thanks Jack. What do I owe you?

The Cure For What Ails You

‘Researchers surveyed close to 800 participants on their feelings after listening to sad music, and found that most people actually feel consoled when they hear it, especially during periods of other emotional distress. ... Sad music can also help regulate negative moods and emotions’.  Internet sources

There’s  something that’s true for me; sad music makes me feel better.   But not until tonight did I look it up to discover that it’s a fairly common phenomenon. At least in my case if I’m feeling bad sad music helps me deal with it and if I feel fine it makes me feel even better. 

I listen to sad music over and over. Sarah McLachlan’s music is profoundly sad.   Apparently her heart has been broken by multiple lovers and she likes singing about it. Her Wintersong is one of the saddest songs ever, so I listen to it in every season. Judy Collins, one of my favorite 70s singers, sings equally “depressing music.” But instead of feeling depressed, my mood is lightened. During Christmas I channel surfed into a Carpenters special.  It was one of those public broadcasting fund raisers so I had to endure a generous amount of fund solicitations.  But I stayed with it and watched the whole thing.  I was not only reminded of the horrible tragedy of Karen’s untimely death at age 32, but I noticed for the first time how sad much of the music is. I mean really, “Rainy Days and Mondays Always Get Me Down”.  I’m listening to it now and it’s sad, but it’s not.  Her silky smooth voice and the music is beautiful. Her voice flows like cream from a ceramic pitcher. “What I feel has come and gone before… nothing to do but frown. Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.” I feel your pain Karen and it feels really good. But I’m just talking about the music and not the pain of her life.  There’s nothing that feels good about that.  It’s just sad.

If you’ve been reading me for any length of time you know about my love affair with Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings.  This music based on Gregorian chant has been called the saddest music in Western civilization.  I listen to it once or twice a month.  Do I listen to this profoundly sad music to feel bad?  No, I listen to it to feel good.  I not only enjoy the music itself, but I enjoy reminiscing about the afternoon in the fall of 1973 when discovered it for myself. I had no idea I had stumbled onto “great music”, music that was performed by the best symphony orchestras all over the world.  I wouldn’t know till much later that Adagio for Strings was the most performed American music in Europe. Looks like a lot of people enjoy sad music. That afternoon at the Enterprise State Junior College I didn’t know any of that; I just knew it was the most beautiful music I had ever heard. 

Do you share my love of the music of Carole King?  “Beautiful”, her life story, is on Broadway now. Again apparently I’m not the only person who enjoys her music. I’m listening to one of my favorite of King’s music, “So Far Away.”  Her homesickness bleeds through her words and music in an undeniable way.  So sad. So beautiful. So good for the soul. That song became popular during the summer of 1971, the summer I sold books door to door in Kentucky. While hitchhiking I would hear it played on random car radios and in  my profoundly lonely state, it became my most trusted companion. It’s still one of my favorite songs.

My favorite music of any genre including all pop, Christian, choral  and classical is Leonard Bernstein’s Mass.  This incredible work scored for multiple orchestras, ensembles, soloists and choirs is at its core a tragedy. A priest, a celebrant is at the center of the performance.  His descent into madness and subsequent transformation is a feat of musical genius.  I visit this music, especially the final soliloquy, over and over. When it's over it doesn’t make me want to pop a pill. It makes me want to sacrifice a cow.

Obviously, this list could go on and on indefinitely.  There is no shortage of sad songs and music. And that’s a good thing since there’s no shortage of sadness. Having a bad day?  Feeling a little down in the mouth?  Take two  Carpenters and call me in the morning.

Listening to Your Life

“Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery that it is. In the boredom and pain of it no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it, because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.”

-Frederick Buechner, Now and Then: A Memoir of Vocation

It’s not always pleasant to listen to our life.  The sounds our life recall include a multitude of feelings and events that we don’t want to hear. It can be quite unpleasant to listen to our life. But when we “see it for the fathomless mystery that it is” the memories take on another dimension.  If remembering “the boredom and the pain” is a good thing, then listening to our life becomes an exercise of grace and beauty. Buechner admonishes us to “touch, taste, and smell our way to the holy and hidden heart” of our lives. The reason that he recommends this is the best part of all.  We do this “because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.”

I’ve had the same counselor for twenty six years.  I met Dr. Brown on June 11, 1992 when I was going through the struggle of my life.  I don’t recall much of what we talked about, but I do remember that he told me that I had “fuzzy boundaries.”  I told him that I had no idea what he was talking about. It’s no wonder the concept is hard to grasp as we were still discussing personal boundaries when my wife and I saw him for the last time about six weeks ago. It wasn't "marriage counseling" as we are doing just fine. It's just that my wife offers perspective on me that I can't provide for myself.  It was in that session that he told us he had retired and was moving to New Orleans to be near his daughter.

One thing Dr. Brown and I  discussed over those years is my tendency to have “profound experiences.”  I argued that these experiences were indeed “profound” and he argued that to say particular experiences are “profound” is to say that most of my experiences are relatively insignificant. On the one hand I’d like to submit that if Moses referred to the burning bush as “profound” then he would have every right to do so.  On the other hand I’ve never seen a burning bush. But certain things have happened to me that were to me at least extra-ordinary. I’m listening to music that means much to me.  In the fall of 1975 I was traveling with my sleeping college girlfriend, now my wife,  on US Highway 78 east toward Birmingham, Alabama. I was listening to beautiful music on the radio that I had never heard before. When we passed the Sumiton Church of God something “profound” happened. Like that ancient burning bush, the windows of the church seemed to be on fire and yet the building wasn’t consumed. My heart seemed to be on fire as well. What I was seeing matched what I was feeling listening to that music.  As the music continued my exuberance continued.  After the music concluded with its dramatic climax, the DJ said, “You’ve been listening to Ottorino Respigui’s Church Windows”.  I’ve been by that church many times since that night and it was an ordinary church. No burning windows.  I have listened to Church Windows dozens of times since then and nothing ever caught fire.  So did anything extraordinary happen that night?  It did for me. My girl friend never knew the difference. And yet I understand and acknowledge both Frederick Buechner’s and Dr. Brown's admonition that “In the last analysis all moments are key moments” “and life itself is grace”. Arriving alive in Birmingham or anywhere on any given day is then no longer a matter of either profundity or boredom, but is a matter of life and death.

When Dr. Brown told us that he had retired and that that session would be our last, maybe it was not a "profound experience," but it was definitely breath-taking.  And yes my wife and I both cried. In similar circumstances, you would cry too. 

You're longing for a "profound experience?"  Something "extraordinary?"  If you can "touch, taste and smell", you're well on your way. Listen to your life. You may be surprised what it says to you.

Happy New Year

Just before Thanksgiving many folks wish you a happy Thanksgiving or Happy Holidays. Immediately after Thanksgiving they will inquire about your Thanksgiving."Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?" they will ask. Then folks will wish you a Merry Christmas. Then immediately after Christmas folks ask, "Did you have a good Christmas?"  And then a few days after that folks start wishing you a Happy New Year or some say New Year's. Then during the first few days of January folks ask if you had a good new year, or new year's.

First of all when written, Happy New Year, since it's a holiday, should be capitalized. It is more proper to wish someone a Happy New Year and not a Happy New Year's. Technically, Happy New Year's is not entirely incorrect since it assumes New Year's Eve or New Year's Day.  The apostrophe indicates possession and "eve" or "day" is attached to new year. It's just that Happy New Year sounds a lot a better than Happy New Year's  even if you understand the syntax.

Then In early January folks will ask you if you had a good new year or new year's.  In this case, new year's is actually more appropriate than new year.  It's a little silly to inquire about the new year  when it's only the first week of January. You have no perspective on the new year.  It the person asks "How was your new year's?" then whether he means to or not, he's inquiring about your New Year's Eve or New Year's Day. Either way the person is asking if you enjoyed your New Year's celebration with family and friends and not asking about the new calendar year. .

So  how far into the new year is it appropriate to inquire about the holidays? The rule of thumb is to ask the question the first time you see someone about a week or so into January.  After that it becomes a little unnecessary. By mid-January, "Hello, how are you?" works very well.

Last thing, in some cases "the holidays" were difficult and some people will tell you about it. Since you asked, it's good to listen and be concerned.  If you're not concerned you can at least feign interest since you started the conversation.

In a few weeks folks will wish you  a Happy Easter.  I've never known anyone to wish a Happy Easter's.  I guess it makes as much sense as Happy New Year's since it would suggest a Happy Easter's Day.  But that would just be weird. But whether it's before or after Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's or Easter  more than likely the greeter is making an idle comment.  He really isn't that interested in your response. Back in July of 1992, while going through the worst time of my life, I told my counselor I didn't know how to respond to people who asked me "How are you?"  He said, "Just say 'fine' ".