That was interesting. I went to the symphony tonight to hear MTT conducting Tchaik 2, Sibelius Oceanides (which was beautiful) and one of my favourites, La Valse by Yann Tierson. Okay, no I’m kidding…. not this one…this one:
I daresay it is more fun to play it than to sit in the audience but it was a delight nonetheless. It was brutal passing by the vino rosso as I sat in my discomfort and wondered why I was so uncomfortable in the current state and reality. Probably the same reason I chose to marinate myself in music as soon as was humanly possible: to be transported and escape this ghastly place. Imagine if you will a rope ladder that drops down from the sky to lift you up out of everything that is petty, small, unjust, rogue and ruthless in the world. “Oh yes, Mr. Rope, pleeeeeease take me out of here, if only for 90 minutes. I’m not so sure about it here, it doesn’t compute with my system.” That’s how I feel about wine and music. They are saviors or the holy rope ladders that allow us to transcend and escape from a harsh world that doesn’t always seem sane or make sense, to a reality that is full of promise and beauty and harmony.
My father felt it proper (bless him) to recount to me his memory of my birth when I turned 30. “I remember your birth like it was yesterday. Your personality asserted itself from Day One. It was the strangest thing I’ve ever seen. With only your head popping out of your mother you were screaming at the top of your lungs, completely outspoken. You weren’t having it.” Gee, Dad thanks for the visual. “Seth, on the other hand, gave us all a good scare because he wasn’t making a peep. Even the young doctor was getting nervous and had to repeatedly give him several slaps on the behind before he started crying.”
That story, as amusing as it is, is an apt reflection of how I view this whole game:
Day One, Bootcamp: What the #$%^*&@# am I doing here?
Day Two, The Front Lines: Ok, now how the *$(*&# do I get out of here?
Well, for me those vehicles have been wine and music. Unfortunately, the wine brings with it a shadow side and giant illusion. It is as if the captain of the ship says, “Hop on the ride, but Captain Vino is signing a waiver releasing responsibility. He can’t guarantee you where the ride will end up.” Great, more fine print, awesome. “Sometimes you will end up at the destination you were aiming for (Elevation or Escape Island) and other times you’ll be sorely disappointed, but I can guarantee you will be transported to somewhere. ” ‘Thanks Vino, I’ll take that under advisement. Let me have my people call Capitano Musica and see what he has to say.’
“Musica here, welcome to the land of angels.” Better. So the other option is hanging out in Angel Land. Everything seems copisthetic here. I mean what could possibly go wrong? It’s just another means of flying totally unencumbered and free, transcending all of the bullshit down below. Of course, it’s likely that when we come back we may hit the earth with a huge thud and a shock (like that whole womb trauma thing.) But after being on that ride, it imbues one with a greater hunger to keep transcending and bringing that heightened state down into the world around us. With wine or without it (But didn’t that Jesus guy drink wine?) With music or without it (Perish the thought.) Of course, if this were a perfect world, I would never have to choose between or give up either or both. Last time I checked we hadn’t quite gotten there yet. So I reserve the right to keep climbing rope ladders to get out of this crazy world, any way I can, even if for an hour or two at a time. Freedom, elevation, bliss. I mean, really. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. Do you?