Y2 a'tumblin

day 20 complete.

The meditation habit seems to be pretty well in place, but this writing a post a day one is not so locked in. They say it may take only 21 days to make an easy habit automatic, but more difficult habits can take 60 days or more.

I fell asleep on the couch this evening and was very close to just going to bed and calling it a night, but here I am. At it again. Tomorrow is the last day of the habit course, so I might as well at least keep the streak going until then.

Today I bought Andrew Bird’s “Not a Robot, But a Ghost.” I love the drama in this song that kicks in after the first whistle. And the percussion like overworked machinery slowly but steadily falling to pieces. And the captivating lyrics. And the strange, halting string section in the middle that slows the song down to a crawl before the shaking percussion returns and speeds things up again. Its the rare song that has enough elements to keep me coming back to listen again and again, always looking for and discovering an interesting new detail.

Music moves under its own time and rhythm. When we listen, we are forced to adopt the pace of the song, grabbing what bits and pieces we can as it rushes by. Since we can’t quite keep up, there’s always a little bit of the code of the song left to crack. At least there is for the songs I enjoy coming back to again and again. This song for instance. When I first listened to it, the part about cracking the codes to end the war really stuck out and I was convinced it was about Alan Turing and his work to crack the Enigma code during World War II. Then I read an interview Andrew did where he talks about it being a breakup song, which also makes sense. The desperate belief that if we can just figure something out analytically, then the surrounding conflict we’re feeling can end.

But this time I’m hearing details in the percussive found sounds that were never noticed before. Is that a hand tapping a box underneath the sounds of spoons hitting water glasses? Hmmm. Time for another go around. 

day 19 complete.

The morning meditation is becoming nearly automatic at this point. I don’t really question it, I just do it. Suppose that is what I’ve been shooting for. Now, patience. Staying the course.

This Burial track, “NYC” is hauntingly sublime. Not so much in a haunted house kind of way, but in an affecting and enchanting way. A few weeks back I listened to this on headphones, riding home from work at night. It was perfect. The route home is along a bike path that runs next to a cement river that drains to the ocean. Experiencing the quiet beauty of the urban environment on a moonlit night, softly lit and lonely, wind in my face, dark flowing water to my left, the wet grass of an empty baseball field in my nose, and this haunting Burial music in my ears. It’s what I’m here for. It just fits.

I’ve been going to urban runoff channels and drainage creeks since I was a little kid. Finding creatures surviving among the dirty effluence of the city makes it all feel undeniably alive. Not necessarily on anyone else’ terms of beauty and wildness, but alive and kicking nonetheless. Life’s refusal to let go of these gray passageways of societal neglect has always been a source of great comfort for me. Burial understands and celebrates this feeling in his soft and unassuming way. His music is a love letter to the forgotten waterways left to quietly slip through unfeeling industrial landscapes and sewers. Always rushing on carrying the silt of the city out and away.

Day 18 complete.

Today I went to a halloween event we helped promote in Hollywood. I was dressed in a robot box costume with various computer parts attached and blinking lights. People loved it, coming up to take their picture with me and tell me it was their favorite costume of the night.

But they couldn’t see me inside. They were talking to a box with feet sticking out the bottom. It’s interesting how that works. My only communication back was to jump up and down or swing side to side or bump into them. It was fun and freeing. Its nice to limit things sometimes.

On the way home we listened to Alice in Chains “Man in the Box.” It was apropos, but not one of my favorite songs. It did make me think of a favorite though, Arcade Fire’s “My Body Is A Cage.”

I used to feel that way sometimes. I wanted to become a robot to get away from my body and unpleasant things like emotions and feelings. I realize now there is no escape from the body. There is no me without my body. The mind and the body are one. Vipassana has taught me this on an experiential level, but recent science has begun to prove the same truths. The mind is not a disembodied spirit trapped inside the body. The mind and consciousness is a full range experience of the entire system in relationship to the environment. The truth is so simple and inescapable. The cage is in fact, only in our minds.

p.s. this video is wonderful:

day 17 complete.

Tonight I bought “#3” off of Aphex Twin’s Selected Ambient Works, Vol. II. The track is also know as Rhubarb, after the image representing it in the album liner notes.

The song is an almost perfect rendition of auditory peacefulness. This must be what a quiet morning enjoying the English countryside is like. Rolling green hills along ancient wood, the rural expanse rendered timeless against a distant backdrop of endlessly approaching and receding civilization.

Listening to this song somehow comes with a depth of feeling and memory that should only happen with a song I’ve listened to hundreds of times, like a pop hit with massive radio play that has been with me since childhood and has sound-tracked the spectrum of emotional states. Yet I’ve only recently discovered this album after having enjoyed lots of other Aphex Twin for years.

There is a kind of long view perspective here that is beyond words. A resigned knowing that’s felt deep in the bones, but difficult to express. The true genius of this music comes not so much from the lone man, Richard D. James, who brought it out of the ether, but from the communal experience felt when music touches those deep places within that we know to be universal. The beauty and richness of music is not simply in the way it helps us understand ourselves, but in the way it helps us understand and feel our shared humanity.

day 16 complete.

Today I reminded myself why I was doing this. I had to. I’d forgotten. One day at a time is a powerful way to break up a long term project. It’s a necessary tool for success. But at the same time, it’s important not to take the eyes off the prize. There is a longer term aim at work here, and a reminder is in order.

Change. In every moment. The power and skill to seize the ever-changing present and all that it offers. To truly see the world, unvarnished by the bias and distortion of the imagined self. This is what I seek. When “Man in the Mirror” was released in January of 1988, I was 9 years old. I probably appreciated the message, but I didn’t have the tools or experience to know what it meant. I could only enjoy the sentiment without really being able to put it into action.

23+ years later, I can no longer hide behind ignorance. I have been given the gift of meditation and self inquiry, and I now have the responsibility to continue to make that change. To mature beyond the illusion of ego and selfishness. It’s not an easy path. These last few days I have felt that difficulty, and I’ve allowed it to let me fall victim to that “selfish kind of love” of which our friend Michael sings.

But if I remind myself of how good it feels to let go of the small, the separated, the little imaginary man in the mirror of the mind, I can forge ahead with confidence, excitement, and joy. Because though this journey is bigger than myself, and it has the power to change the world, it starts with me, and I am the ultimate benefactor.

To inquire into the true nature of the self is to embrace the fullness of reality. It is the only route to a deep and lasting connection to the present moment and all that it offers. Change. With every day. With every meditation. With every moment. Sha mon.

day 15 complete.

Doing something small everyday that you feel is good for you will not save your life. It will not make all your troubles go away. It may not even make any of them go away. Not in every moment anyways.

The day is long. I meditated for 11 minutes this morning. During those 11 minutes I felt pretty peaceful. That leaves about 1,429 other minutes to deal with until I meditate again tomorrow. That’s a lot of minutes to deal with. They can go any direction. Up, down, laterally. In a circle. Erratically non-linear. Steady and straight. Forwards, backwards, a jump ahead or falling behind. Forwards again, then backwards again. Stuck in reverse. Or maybe even in some dimension we don’t understand that only quantum computers can comprehend.

Point is there’s a lot of possibility there in the day, and it ain’t ever gonna be all sorted out because of one good habit. A small bit of the day I’ve tried to fix in place as a consistent bulwark against the oppressive forces of uncertainty. At the end of the day, the many small victories and defeats are probably gonna outweigh whatever I managed to accomplish in the first 11 minutes of this day.

Damn, that’s rough sometimes. There is no practice, no matter how dedicated, how consistent, how many minutes you devote to it, that’s gonna solve all the problems of the day. What the crap. Somebody should’ve told me this. 

“But if you never try you’ll never know 

Just what you’re worth”

Take it away Coldplay. You may not satisfy the music snobs of the world, but right now I’m just looking for a light to guide me home. I don’t care if its sentimental, over the top, or predictable. Oh, its all three? Even better.

day 14 complete

Two full weeks down. This combination of meditation in the morning, a song for the day, and a post reflecting on the two has dare I say, become a routine. It is a set of recurring activities, which I have introduced into my life by force of will.

In the face of dreary mornings, the distraction of the weekend, hangovers, and the loss of the excitement of the new, I have been able to stick with this set of recurring activities. These habits. The activities are small and not that hard. They don’t require a lot of time, or even effort. By themselves, they don’t really amount to much at all. And yet, strung out in a line, day by day, one after another, their significance grows. Though the sittings are quite short, they have added up to over an hour and a half of meditation. I have bought myself over $14 worth of music the last two weeks, from 14 different artists. I have sat down to write, something, anything 14 times and produced something I can share with friends and strangers, consistently.

All of these wonderful things have accumulated through a simple method. One day at a time. One day at a time is all we can do, really. There is so much I want to accomplish, so much about myself and the world I want to change. For most of my life the change I want to be has seemed so big, so insurmountable that I secretly believed it all impossible. I am beginning to see possibility. I am beginning to see progress. Small, but recurring. Where it leads, I cannot know. But I will get there. One day at a time.  

day 13 complete.

i don’t know much else.  but i know day 13 is done. today, after i got out of bed (which i didn’t reach until after 7am because i fell asleep in my car), i did meditate for 10 minutes.

so that goal is accomplished. i can call “day 13” complete. woohoo! winrar!

now its many hours later. i watched my friends in lucent dossier do the best performance i’ve ever seen them do. it made me feel alive. it was the fullness of experience. now i’m back at my place on the couch typing on a laptop. music by beck is playing. i’ve always liked this remix. but i didn’t know it was a diplo remix until tonight, thanks to detailed credits on rdio. all this time. i didn’t know diplo and beck together made a remix. one that i like. thats cool. i sleep now. goodnight.

day 12 complete

Today I was feeling the “dip” that has been mentioned numerous times in the habit course. Emotionally down. Not so much about the practice and the course, but in general.

This day-at-a-time stuff is powerful, but its easy to ascribe a bit too much to it. To start looking forward into the future a little obsessively, making all these wild predictions about how much life is going to change now. Back in reality though, its a slow and steady process. Changes come gradually, imperceptibly at times. The newness of the process wears off, and the realization that things haven’t changed all that much comes rushing back. So, as they say, there’s a dip.

Getting home from work, I was ready to give up and get sucked in to TV-land for the night, only just barely dragging myself out for a bike ride before sunset.

I put M83’s new album “Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming” on the headphones. It would be the first time I’d listened to it outside in the world instead of in front of a computer monitor. The sky was turning sunset pink. Cars were hurrying through stops signs, coming home for the weekend. The swelling of the synths pumped my legs harder as I dodged between the rushing cars and headed for the bike path. The song kept building, and a chorus of voices in my ears made it feel like being in one of the 80’s movie we all wished could be real life when we were kids. I broke out of the urban landscape into the wetlands. Pelicans flew with me along the creek as the ocean approached. The orange ball of the sun touched the surface of the water.

There was no more dip.