Why do we read blogs?

It's an odd occurence today that blogs have a high level of poularity. But why do we feel compelled to read them?

It could be the sister's diary scenario. We want to be privy to some secret information about others. Know something about them that we wouldn't have learned through non-covert means. Once we learn this juicy tidbit we feel powerful and that makes us want to read more.

Or it could be that we want to feel secure that we are truly normal. We have our own set of experiences and ways of acting. How can we know if it is normal? Am I the only one who is interested in deep sea marine life (only an example) or am I the only one who eats a full, $1.29, 6 serving box of Mike & Ikes in one sitting (if only it were just an example). We long to feel normal and when we find someone who thinks the way we do we become elated. Finally, someone who shares my fear of roller coasters! These knowledge also forms a bond with the other person. Somehow, finding that other person justifies our actions. Now we can do them without shame and humiliation; bring our foibles out into the open. But not until we find that person.

Do you know why we read blogs?

Chernobyl

Some things that can cause a meltdown:

-Online game pieces not working at Playatmcds.com
-Unplanned, extra rehersals that eat up your free time before the next rehersal
-Thinking you lost you bow when you simply set it aside and forgot about it(well it's actually the school's but I'm still responsible fo it)
-People talking in the hall while you are trying to clam down after a 13 hour school day (noise in general)
-The shower suddenly turning really hot then really cold while you are trying to relax
- Learning about new homework or hidden homework (you know, the ones in the syllabus that are never mentioned after the first day of classes)
- multiple projects at one time
-slow internet
- hearing how busy someone else is when when they aren't involved in any extracurricular activities and have an easy major (me? no electives + 18 cr. per semester)
- having a $500 gig possiblity but having to turn it down becuase every scheduled rehersal conflicts with something in my schedule.
-not being able to practice for 2 weeks becuase of lack of time

I could go on forever; and these all happened today! Understandably, I had a bit of a meltdown. With schoolwork piling up and time running short I have hit a wall. Luckily, someone was there to catch me (God). I read psalm 24 and really tired to relax tonight. I had many distractions and things running through my head but I think I've reached the downhill. So why do I get so stressed?
I think the main reason is personal expectations; I expect perfection in school work. I simply haven't had the time to devote to studying and practicing that I would like and so I can see my grades slipping. I don't know why but grades hold many of us in a stranglehold. We try so hard to get A's and will destroy our health and become stressed simply for a letter attached to our name.

grades are labels. They tell us who we are academically. We even say "he's an A student" or "She's a D student (no gender bias intended)." Our live revolve around how some prof. decids to grade our papers, projects, and tests. Often we are subjected to thier personal bias and, as a result, we try to find our their preferred answer instead of seeking personal understanding. I won't even sepak up in class for fear of not having the prof.'s desired answer. This makes for an exemplary student when I do have the answer but for a lousy learner. I want to get past this grade obsession but it seems the harder I try the worse I feel about relying so I'm led to work more for the grade. So I play this game where I fall to pieces simply becuase I can't get someone else's idea of concept mastery finished instead of finding out what the course has to offer me and really learning. Countless times beloved subject have fallen away becuase they have become a class. I enjoyed theory, until I was graded on it. I desired to know everything about that research toppic, until I became my reasearch topic. get the Idea?

And soI continue in this cycle of stress and anxiety all becuase of a simple sheet of paper that tells me who I am.

My frustration

I love to play, even perform. Good music get me moving, gets me thinking, or gets me... plain and simple. I find a voice in playing and I worship best when I have an instrument in my hand. That's why it hurts when the turn out for an important concert is poor. When you give yourself blisters by playing so hard and experience pain in an attempt to make music that will satisfy others. I want others to experience the joy I find in jazz; to drink in the ballad or tap their toes to a deep swing. Not only that, it hurts when I see professional musicians come to play for our campus and they recieve little support. Specifically, I am talking about the Mulligan Stew concert this past thursday. It angers me that everyone says they enjoy jazz when I talk to them but don't have the action to back it up. They miss a great oportunity to hear some great music, even support Bethel's attempt at the genre becuase, quite frankly, they procrastinated too long or simply don't care. Your fellow students work hard to make good music and, yes, we do it for our own enjoyment but we want others to be there to congratulate us and to experience it. It like the old saying "If a tree falls in the forest an no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?" We made quite a sound, but the majority of Bethel didn't hear it. I do admit that the few that heard it were thrilled, but I want a bigger group to show up. If the school can turn out thousands to a football game shurely they can turn out a few hundred for professional musicians gracing our presence. Personally, I hoped a contingent of my friends would be there (yes there were a few of you). I told many people but no one seemed interested enough to support me. It shows me that you really don't care about what I do (of course many could say the same about me and for that I apologize). I feel betrayed by my group that says they appreciate jazz (yeah facebook!). To take a line from Batman Begins "Iit's not who you are underneath but what You do that defines who you are."
I'm tired of seeing the same dwindling numbers of people attend music events at Bethel. We have high quality programs often for free but most people miss out becuase they don't want to "waste their time". It not a waste, you may enjoy the concert, but, more imporantly, it gives the music department your support. And when even the school administration doesn't care enough to advertise, attend, or fund music event (except for the moneymaking festival of christmas) we can use all the support we can get. I have something great I have devoted my life to and i'd like to share it with as many people as possible.

By the way This week;
Orchestra concert monday night
Jazz concert Friday
Parents Weekend concert saturday
all concerts start at 7:30

Some Questions

here's a few questions without answers (I haven't found them yet):

Why do I sense things the way I do?

Why did I once hate spicy food but now I enjoy it?

Is there really TIME or is it a man-made invention?

Why can't I break away from social norms?

Am I who I think I am?

Is there something inside of me that makes me different? In other words, am simply I made up of expereinces?

What if someone experineced exactly the same things I did in the same order and same way; whould they be me?

Will I have hair in 25 years, will I want it?

If God loves me so much and we are strengthened by adversity, why doesn't he make my life harder?

It's all jazz

What is jazz? It's conversation through song; playing your song (which is derived from another song which we jazz musicians call "the head") and hearing, listening and conversing with the songs of others. For example, the great trumpeter Wynton Marsalis might be playing the tune "Take the A-Train" which tells the reality of joy found in the mundane. he and his compatriot, Wessell Anderson would play the "head" together; telling the reality as understood by Duke Ellington, the song's composer. After playing the "head" twice, Wynton would break in and play a bouncing melodic line, proclaiming the bounce in his step that comes from joy. Wessell listens and, when it's his turn to speak, would agree by playing something similar. Then, however, he would move on to his own take on joy. Maybe tonight he sees the pure energy that joy creates (you know how it makes you want to move, jump, do something fast) and he would play a flurry of notes. Fingers flying, he would tell his story and ,once he had said enough for the night, Wynton would break in with him and play the head. Yet, this time it would be different. Maybe some runs here, a new tone color there, they would integrate their songs into the "head" weaving a three part harmony based on Ellington's famous song written so we could converse with him (even though he's dead).

And that's only part of the conversation; I could go into how the rythm section says it's "amens" and tell their stories but that is for another time. The point here is CONVERSATION.

Since, as I said before, we all experience the world differently, we all have different songs. Not only that, we undersatnd things differently. I say pen and you might think of a ball point, black ink, bic but I may be thinking of a blue ink one (what are some other pen types besides ball point?). Now, since we percieve this way, it's a miracle we can communicate. I hope you all like miracles, I do. the important part of conversation, true conversation, is realizing this. We must stop thinking about ourselves and realize that the person on the other end of this conversation has his/her own points to make. They want to convey something just as much as we do, but we forget that there's a living, breathing, person on the other end and simply talk at them. remember I made a distinction at the beginning between listening and hearing? (go ahead, check) We need to really listen to what others say, maybe we could pick up a piece of their song (or what their song means to us). Many arguments could be solved if we would just stop to think about the other persons perspective. We may think they were stupid for making that choice, but at the time it seemed rational to them, possibly even the best option. But you come into the argument with false assumptions. You also bring in baggage from you own life and force it on them. They must think like you, act like you, know what has happened to you. We must stop being egocentric for our own good. Ayn Rand would assert that the best thing to do is whatever benefits you. Well... it is beneficial to realise the position of others.

If only we all thought the same way; but then we wouldn't be unique.
if we could understand each other that would be great; but the greatetst part is that God has enabled us to break through this existential barrier and communicate. It's not done often, but when it happens it truly is a miracle.

Facebook quote study

So I have several quotes posted on facebook and I'd like to take a good look at one (or two or all) of them.

"Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them"
Henry David Thoreau


First some background: This famous quote is from his book, Walden, that recounts his experience living simply on the shores of Waldn pond. In the first chapter, titled economics (I think), he goes in depth on why he attempted to live as such. This quote occurs while he remarks on the way men live and how they are seemingly tied to their work, their land, and the accumulation of things. Now that I have given some background I'll tell you my take on the quote.

What does it mean to live... I mean really live. "suck out the marrow" and drink deeply from life. It is singing.
To go to the grave with your song still in you means that you never sang; you never told your story. I don't mean the song that was given to you; either by being told what to do or being brainwashed. I mean the song that you have developed through trials, the good times in a single word- experience.
Your experiences are unique, don't think for a moment that you are like anyone else. In fact, I believe we experience even mundane things subjectively. Our understanding of "It's warm outside" is subjective. Not just the extremes, I think that, if there was a point at which one MUST put on a sweater, everyone's point would be different so in turn everyone's expereince of temperature would be different. NOTHING IS OBJECTIVE (in the strictest sense).

We must, then, proclaim our sbjectivity in song; but most don't do that. We become attached to our jobs, our property, and, most of all, to what people think of us. (insert tangent here) I believe that we don't really know who we are. We let others tells us who we should be and believe that that is our genuine self. CAST OFF THIS DENIAL; become who you feel like being. Probe the depths of things and find your subjective beliefs and understaindings.

So what does it mean to "live lives of quiet desperation"? I think that deep down we know that there is a personal song to sing, but we deny ourselves this becuase it may be unclutured or different or maybe we are afraid of making a "mistake". Let me tell you; THIS SONG IS SUBJECTIVE, it's improvised, it's jazz. You aren't missing that leap of a major 7th, the major 7th isn't there. You decide what you want to sing becuase the only things you can sing, once you cast off the fake song made by others, is what is inside of you. But we are desperate to sing becuase we have not sung, it requires too much of us. We fear our real selves; are they attractive? are they funny? are they wise? It's seems like they couldn't be but we want these "desireable" traits so insdead of pursuing ourselves we pursue the ideal person. Suppressing our song, we hold back and wait for the right social cues.

But believe me, I don't sing either. What is my song? I don't know yet. Have I tried to sing it? Not often and only when I am by myself or when I'm writing. Let's try this together. One step at a time. Step one: find your starting pitch........

Adequacy

I struggle with adequacy; I have to fight against it every day. I'm not saying that I think I'm overly adequate, I'm not (let's clear that up now). But I try to be adequate; adequate in work, adequate in attitude, adequate in loving others. I know that God should be my provider, he is the adequate one. Still, though, I don't feel comfortable handing over my struggle to God (whatever that means). I keep trying, fighting against impossible odds. It's is impossible, you know, we can't be adequate. Our human nature leaves us wanting, we need God ( can't you feel that?) Yet our flesh fights that. Hmm.....

That's it