Psalm kind of wonderful

from google images

At times, say when a loved one has passed or we’ve just been offered that long expected big promotion, have been through a horrible break up, or just need a shoulder to lean on, we turn to music for distraction, to think, or to sob. Have you ever been having a thing and just when you needed it the most heard the song that helps you muddle through or to sing with unapologetic happiness? Perhaps even a whole string of em back to back, like some Perfect cosmic playlist from who knows where shared just with you at that exact moment?

When Hunter tunes in to songs which move him, he’s listening to life’s soundtrack at a finite moment in time. In that moment he can almost hear the soft, melodic voice (or the pained ‘no!’ screams) of His Maker communicating with Hunter’s stubborn psyche.

What’s the frequency, really….? (Part 1)

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Here (Rascal Flatts song) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Your correspondent spent the day writing non stop. Typically this would make him feel he’d been productive. He’d feel the adrenaline rush of creative work. Instead he’s feeling tired and a bit dissatisfied; annoyed with himself if truth be told. Like the now legendary mythical character inspired by the mugging of newsman Dan Ratherwho’s story in turn inspired one of REM’s most popular tunesthis writer finds himself confused and asking questions.

Why did he spend all day writing about the Republican Convention and obsessing over politics? What premises lead to his obsession over all things political? Does he really care enough about the politics of – not the principles, but the politics of the campaigns and the elections? Do the political games – and his obsession with them – benefit him?

For as long as he can remember Hunter has always found himself asking questions – about himself, his motives for his behaviors, what he believes, about others and their reasons for doing as they do, about the principles people are moved by and about the things that move the world. Today was the rare exception to a standing truism.

Today Hunter did not care for the answers he had found. Hunter refuses to ignore his most crucial principle – to act on and towards things that will benefit him (and clearly his dissatisfaction does not). Today Hunter resolved to focus on things that matter to him. Today introspection leads him to the inescapable conclusion that politics as such do not matter to him.

Hunter finds himself relieved that he’s become so consciously aware of this fact. The news had sat in the back of his mind for so long. It needled and beckoned for him to notice like insistent chords from some Thrash Metal ballad; awareness of his distaste for the political process screamed as it sang to him. Today, he finally knew what he had been hearing for so long.

This writer is reminded of the friends and family he so nonchalantly offended, insulted, turned off, and, eventually, (and always) alienated himself from. His obsession with political – not moral but political – principles was and still remains a source of much of his trouble with others. No mas.

Hunter finds himself acutely aware that his moral code requires that he prize his family and friend’s love and respect over petty differences in how best to act on principle. He violated that code again and again when minor (and, occasionally, major) actions of others needled his political obsession. No mas.

Today is a good day to change. Isn’t today always the best day to correct one’s mistakes? Isn’t today always the day to chase happiness rather than let dissatisfaction, anger, or fear be things to run from?

No mas will Hunter ask his version of ‘what’s the frequency’ nor be as confused as the character suggested by that myth.

Hunter remembers a Rascal Flatts concert a year or two back. He remembers fleeting, joyful moments when politics were not his motivator and joy was his only aim. He remembers better days when he came so close to genuine human connections he could reach out and share a drink and a smoke with them.

Hunter remembers smiling, drinking his beer; the boys singing “I’ve found you find strength in your moments of weakness; for once I’m at peace with myself. I’ve been burdened with blame, trapped in the past for too long. I’m movin’ on.”

Smiling over his beer, Hunter thought he was moving on. He merely moved himself and moved others into a corner and into an inevitable rage. He’d no notion of that which lay ahead. Unbeknownst to himself he was still obsessed with a past in which politics did in fact matter. No mas.

Hunter is on the hunt for joy and better days. Politics can’t help him there.

Hunter is moving on. He finally knows the frequency. No longer confused, the frequency makes him smile. Friends wait for him while he composes a new song for himself. They wait, drink and joint in hand.