Be Here Now

When I was 24, I read a book that changed my life.  It was called Nothing Special: Living Zen, by Charlotte Joko Beck, an American who became a Zen teacher in her 40's.  It taught me that we put all kinds of desperate importance on things that are ultimately meaningless, we perpetuate our own turmoil by clinging self-righteously to our emotions, and that we are equally responsible for any bad relationship we're in, with partners, siblings, parents, bosses or strangers.  

The book helped me transform many relationships, and to evolve from a child mind to an adult mind, from naivety to mindfulness.  It completely changed the way I see people, for better or for worse.  There is a line in the book about how Zen is like a melting ice cube - once you start living mindfully, you can't go back.  This is true, and it's kind of annoying.  I feel like I live in the real world, while everyone around me lives in a carefully constructed illusion - one that's designed to keep out fear and pain but in reality only brings it in truckloads. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm no Bodhisattva.  I just know that I alone am responsible for me.  I try to approach every day with wonder and humility, and be thankful, because it's a rare and totally random gift to be alive.  I also know that, as a highly charged, hot blooded, feisty, opinionated woman who feels everything right down to my core, it's not always easy to step back from my emotions, but I've at least learned to own them, instead of foisting onto others the blame and responsibility for how I feel.


Joko Beck says "when nothing is special, everything can be", and I append that with a line from Albert Camus' essay on Sisyphus: "there is no fate that cannot be surmounted by scorn".  Joko Beck says that we miss the true beauty of life when we try to control it or blame others for things not turning out the way we wanted them to.  When we realise that absolutely everything is meaningless - including our own feelings - we begin to see the real miracles.  As for Camus, the outcome of any situation depends on how you look at it.  


Ultimately, you are the master of your own happiness.  If you lay about all miserable and angry because of other people's decisions, wage psychological battles for the upper hand with people close to you, always have an excuse for not achieving your potential, or constantly tell yourself "it's someone else's fault" - then you will reap what you sow.  On the other hand, taking responsibility for your own emotional well being reaps much more than it sows - it cultivates happiness in others, smoothes the road ahead, and draws positive energy into your life.  Strange how simple it is, and even stranger how many people choose the harder path...

Prozac vs. Heroin

Last night I saw one of my all-time favourite bands - Brian Jonestown Massacre - play live for the first time, and they truly blew my mind from top to bottom.  Not only did they play a super long set, ending well after most bands would have hustled back to the green room, they played a non-stop barrage of all my favourite songs, starting with the first song that got me hooked, Super Sonic.  Dancing all around me were members of the Hoa Hoas and Optical Sounds, and when the entire audience sang joyously along to Who? at the top of their lungs, it was transcendent.

Anton Newcombe has been accused of many things, including being a talentless drunk, he's been the object of derision, and a constant outsider in the music industry, but he's one of those guys that just never compromises, even when he knows he's being a dick, and I love that about him.  He barely said a word last night, and yet his charisma held us all in thrall, and I woke up this morning wishing I could go to their next show, wherever it is, and maybe just pack it all in and follow them till they all drop dead.

BJM come from a different era - one when music was sincere and genuine, and the people making it were actually talented artists, not "co-writing with a well known producer".  They don't get radio play, it's true, but they have a fanatic world-wide following anyway, and the joy on the faces around me at last night's show attests to the power of truly good music - Toronto the Stoic was actually dancing!  To me, they are one of the very few nearly perfect bands out there, and I will buy everything they produce, including The Committee to Keep Music Evil label mates Asteroid #4, et al.

I always like it when art has subtext, or represents many things all at once, and BJM is that for me.  They're not just a great band, fronted by a guy whose character I admire and who will clearly continue to make great music for the rest of his life.  They are a time, a feeling, the way sunlight tilts in the fall, dew on a hedge, brass buttons on a wool coat.  They are Autumn to me, when things are simultaneously at their most beautiful, and about to die.  Maybe it's Anton's smack habit, self-destructive behaviour, or his obsession with the dark side of the 60's that inflects the music with that slight waft of death, but whatever it is, it speaks to my Autumn soul.

I was, last night, quite willing to throw myself to the mercy of the band, climb into their camper van and sail away with them forever.  Anton is my only "friend" on You Tube, and if my boyfriend will let me, I'd name all our future children Alfred, Anton's middle name.  To put it simply, last night was well worth the months I've waited with ticket in hand, and my only question now is, when are they coming back?