There is something dangerous about tapping into memory and writing about the past. It's like trying to make use of good spring water. Anything you do to improve the flow, no matter how careful you are, changes both the spring and stream forever. Basically, you can only tap a deep memory once and receive pure writing from it. After that, it's muddied by the mind's desire for theme and structure.
It is what it is. One of my first memories is walking up a spiral staircase to my brother's bedroom. I remember the carpet was gray, tight weaved, like industrial carpet, and there was dust along the edges that my mother's fierce vacuuming never reached. Up above, a room opened up with yellow light, and glorious music spilled down the stairway, swirling around me.
Let It Be. I was only four. I've checked the accuracy of the memory with my brother, and the spiral staircase was three or four steps at the very most, and didn't twist at all. But, I know the moment happened despite the mythic elements of memory and time. That is probably the moment I became both a hippie and a Christian, which I have remained at heart, at some level or another, throughout my life. It's so simple, but it says it all:
And when the broken-hearted people
Living in the world agree
There will be an answer, let it be
For though they may be parted
There is still a chance that they will see
There will be an answer, let it be
A compassion for the less fortunate, a desire for a universal brotherhood, and a faith in a higher power has always been my center. Outwardly, I have not lived a large life; but inwardly, I have. When I was younger, that bothered me. I thought I had things that needed to be said, things that should be heard. I dreamed of stardom so I could have a large podium from which to speak. As I've aged, I've realized that is true of everyone. Each person has much the world should hear, but with 108 billion souls calling earth home at some point, there simply hasn't been enough air time. We tend to want that--to have impact, to think our life has given others meaning. Sometimes that is true, sometimes not. But, what I think now is that we are ultimately here for one reason only--to soften, to open, to let more sorrow in, and by doing so, more light also.
"Let It Be," my first musical memory, is probably my purest, despite the distortions of my young mythic mind. That only makes sense. We come into this world open and learn to become guarded with time until we learn to let go and open again--if we learn that at all.
Some do.
Some don't.
Let it be.
As an educator, your real effect on the world has probably far exceeded the reach of the average world citizen! The Internet, of course, now allows for an "electronic reach" that transcends our personal real world space. I have to admit that it is somewhat frustrating that one can never really know how many are out there reading our thoughts and opinions, nor how many actually take what we say to heart. I suspect that modern communicators probably reach more people (for good or for bad) than we suspect! Just the act of "sharing" an interesting article allows a person to participate in the outreach of someone like Bernie Sanders, Elizabeth Warren, or George Takai. Now if only a lot of people found something more valuable to share than photos of kittens :P Perhaps though, the act of sharing a bit of humor or beauty is, in fact, a popular rebellion against the ugliness of our times. I always like to quote protest singer Phil Ochs... "But in such troubled times, the only true protest is beauty"...
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