May 15, 2015, Medford, Oregon — Standing outside her closed door, I could hear her sobbing, heart-rending, as beyond grief as the stars are hidden beyond a sky of lashing rain.
Today Susan, my sweetheart, has received a phone call, almost a death sentence. It was the doctor’s tests, come back, confirmation of her deepest fear: she is blind.
A few weeks ago in a different life, she caught the airplane to visit her sister Pammi in Arkansas. They had a wonderful time, catching up on laughter, held a “Soul Collage” class for a dozen women, visited a wonderful art museum. They’d hiked to see a beautiful waterfall; she was bitten by a couple of deer ticks, just another adventure. On the way back, she went through Vegas to visit a daughter, then returned to me and the dogs, in Medford.
The day following her return, she turned to me and said, “My vision is weird today. I’m seeing geometric shapes and flashes.”
The next day it was worse, and over the next four days, her vision just … Continue reading
495 Third Avenue, San Francisco, 1975. These days I ride my motorcycle, and have plenty of spare time in between the postering runs for The Thumbtack Bugle. And while I was out putting up posters one day, I was looking at one of the posters.
I had been hired to put up a brightly colored large poster with colorful, banner-like flags pictured. It was advertising a special ritual that was to be performed by Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, a Tibetan Buddhist teacher, at the Nob Hill Masonic Center auditorium on California Street.
Sounded weird and maybe interesting, so I went.
I found it kind of noisy at the time — lots of banging drums and clashing cymbals and blatting, discordant horns — it was plenty weird, and I didn’t understand it much at all.
A week later I was speaking with my cousin Bruce (Richard Bruce Hurn), in Berkeley, and mentioned it because he was studying that same tradition, because they had a study center in Berkeley.
He fell upon the ground laughing. Apparently the ritual that I’d attended was a ritual for the dead.
Gosh. looks like I was in the right place after all!
Panhandle Park, below my Garret Apartment
Lyon and Oak, San Francisco, 1986 — I’d fallen in love with synthesizers, and learned to compose and play. And how to record these songs. In my garret flat, high above the Golden Gate Panhandle Park, with Simmons drums, a Yamaha keyboard, synth modules from Oberheim and Yamaha and Ensoniq, and an early Apple computer, I created music.
Some of these songs had been first recorded while I worked in Dallas for StarTel. The playing is pretty poor, but so thrilling to be able to do it.
Composing songs, however … was effortless. I had a secret method. I’d start a drum machine or repeat a set of chords, and then just listen for the melody that was already in there. Maybe that’s cheating, but it worked for me.
Enough for a Cassette Tape
I realized I had enough songs “in the can,” to make a cassette tape, and I thought what a wonderful Christmas gift to send to all my fans- Oops, I mean friends and family. A cassette tape featuring songs by MEEEEE!
So I did. And that’s why … Continue reading
In another micro-story here on The Adventures of Bloggard, I described my “Twenty-Second Tune-Up” method whereby you can feel good in twenty seconds. Quite a few people have responded, and asked: “Why does this work so well?”
Gather round. I’ll try to keep the explaino brief.
Normal Affirmations Sometimes Don’t Work
When you do an affirmation, and remembering that the unconscious mind works only by association, it becomes clear why the unconscious mind raises those (past or habitual) thoughts that are actually in direct contradiction to what you were just affirming.
For example, you say, “I have a million dollars,” but the little voice inside your head pipes up and says, “Oh, yeah, SURE you do.”
And that’s because … Continue reading