The tempo at which we march through our days… weeks … months… is wrong. The vibration that moves us the very throbbing of the hearts of mankind are out of time with each other. The cadence of life liberty and the pursuit of happiness is off beat.
In a Professional Symphony… The conductor sets the tempo by forming an invisible shape in the air with his hand. When the conductor cues for an accelerando… the music speeds up. When the conductor raises his arms to gesture grandioso the amount of air blowing into the wind instruments increases… and likewise, to soften the orchestra to pianissimo…the conductor again traces back down with his limbs to quiet the noise.
In a Jr. High Orchestra…this goes a bit differently….
We are the Jr High Orchestra People!!!
The chaotic variations that we are stumbling through are simply because we are moving through the most beautiful piece ever written… and we are not very good at our parts yet.
Even before Social Media existed… I was obsessed with what was going on in the world… far beyond my safe little neighborhood…. well away from my conservative state in the middle of America.
I was a young teen when the Gulf War was televised…. Literally… watching it all night long on a small 15 inch black and white tv (What! I had paid for it myself… and I was young… Color TVs had existed since before I was born… Im not that old) … I would stay up all night just watching in fascination…. because I had never even seen this place before…. my friends were there…. fighting…. I quit sleeping… then… I don’t think I ever really started again… there have been many wars since then… they are hardly even covered any longer… let alone televised.
Twitter was born… for my trapped little mind… it was an avenue out of this rose colored world being streamed to us on the TV now… I was reading live the tweets of the man in the coffee shop as he watched the US helicopter land in the neighborhood the night they killed Bin Laden… I lay awake all night reading the messages of people in the square of Egypt… Turkey… Ferguson… as they came in…
I became very ill… I have blogged about how sick I got… in the last two years… and as I took my leap of faith last year… part of that leap resulted in less time spent on Social Media… Although I never unplugged completely… i would go days without even opening that cute little white birded app.
In the wee hours of Sunday Morning…. I opened it again…. at about 1 am my time…. I was very careful not to read the Tweets from inside the club… not to follow that stream… because I had become sensitive again… But I read the tweets of the people outside the club… the mother waiting for word of her daughter… the man desperately wanting to know if the victim with the very shirt off his back wrapped around his wounds had survived… with tears running freely I followed the entire scene for over 24 hours…. at first I was afraid… then I was sad… then I was FUCKING ANGRY… and now… now as I write this I am a melting pot of all of those emotions which really translates to a confused version of Disgusted Hope. (Good Luck figuring that shit out)
I believe we are that Jr High Orchestra of the Universe…. We… Mankind itself… is stumbling through this piece… the cadence is wrong…
Regarding , Politics… Religion… Hate. its pianissimo. Shhhh. Someone Cue the media.
In fact… to move in the right direction we will have to remove the composition off the music stand… We can rip the pages off altogether and watch as they go falling off to the side and throw a new piece up. Love. Kindness. Acceptance. Movement. Energy. Get the heads looking over here again, Hate is impossible because the trumpets are so loud you can’t hear anything else from the orchestra. Cymbals are crashing… drums are roaring,
The Conductor’s hands are dramatically waving from the shoulder joint itself in huge looping arcs.
Try to keep up… keep quiet when it is negative… and play from the pits of your soul the love that is there….
I am so sorry for those who lost their loved ones at Pulse… I am so heart broken that anyone who is already struggling through the ugly measures of preconceived notions of love and personhood are not who they are… that is now alone… and afraid.
I am sorry we sell semi automatic assault rifles in the name of our founding fathers… I am embarrassed really…
I equally embarrassed that we discuss the genitalia of those we want to take a shit next to in front of the world…
America being the youngest…Like toddlers talking about poop…sigh
I am devastated that the term “20 minutes of action” even exists…
But I am not Hopeless… and I am not giving up… and I am not alone…
Neither are you.
One day I believe we will be practiced… we will be in beat… we will harmonize and make beautiful music… the discouragement is palpable… but no one give up!