Thinking About Writing

I have not blogged since 8-8-13.  I was not too concerned about that for the first couple of nights. A break, a day off, is not bad.  But last night, I tried to blog, and could not clear my mind enough to be able to write anything. This happens, more frequently than I would wish, but it happens.

During the last few days, I have listened a lot to the Gregorian Chant CDs that I have.  They help to mellow me.  I have to say, I honestly believe that my physical health as well as my mental health improves when I listen to Gregorian Chants. The first Gregorian chant I purchased was "Salve Regina" on a Philips label.  Later, I purchased "Gregorian Melodies, Popular Chants Vol 11," and "Gregorian Book of Silos" 

I was reflecting the past few days, how much more physically safe and sound, and calm I am, when I listed to Gregorian chants. I have a CD of bagpipe music that also contributes to my mellowness, but not to my groundedness. And if that makes no sense, I am sorry, I cannot explain it any other way.

At work today, I was thinking about my inability to blog, and that I needed to listen to some of the Gregorian chants, if not all, that I have.

Imagine my surprise, as I drove home, that NPR had a story about the music of nuns: http://www.npr.org/2013/08/13/211639502/life-as-prayer-the-singing-nuns-of-ann-arbor.  I like the comments of the sister who says: "We bring people back where the culture, sad to say, is selling them short," Sister Joseph Andrew says. "The culture is not saying you need silence; you need to calm down; you need to meet God in however you might choose to worship him. And I think when you turn this music on, something interiorly starts to calm down. And there starts to be a freedom to be able to really listen to God within."

I so agree, and have discovered I so want to live my life with this calmness.  After Ken and I divorced, Mack, my dog, and I developed a pastoral kind of life. It was idyllic. 

Then, I got involved in a relationship with Bob.  I did not identify it at the time, although some of my friends did, but the emotional turmoil of the relationship was convulsive.  It was not until I was finally out of it in 2006 that I truly realized how destructive it was.

I have returned to a more idyllic existence. I still have turmoil in my life.  I would not be human if I did not. But life is so much more pastoral, and idyllic.  The Gregorian chants help me have the existence. 

Gregorian Chants

I can not tell you how long I have enjoyed Gregorian chants.  I loved the Easter liturgy services because of the Gregorian Chants, when I was growing up.  I can only tell you how stupid I was not to search out recordings of Gregorian Chants to listen to.  That changed a couple of years ago.  By chance, I was in Barnes and Noble http://www.barnesandnoble.com/ and happened upon a CD of Gregorian Chants Salve Regina by the Benedictine Monks of the Abbey of Saint  Maurice and Saint Maur, Clervaux http://www.amazon.com/Salve-Regina-Gregorian-Chant/dp/B0000040ZC. 

I have really enjoyed that CD. 

Last fall, I obtained another CD: Gregorian Melodies, Popular Chants.

Most recently, I obtained The Gregorian Book of Silos.

I really enjoy listening to Gregorian Chants.

I frequently play these CDs when I am computering. But I also play them when I am reading.  I do not play them when I am doing housework. When I am doing housework, I need vigorous, rapid paced music to help me to be active.

But, I use the Gregorian chants to help me to be calm, soothe my soul, and in general help me to relax and refresh.

Sunday Morning

Several years ago, I was visiting my brother, who explained that he generally keeps Sunday as a day of rest and relaxation.  I was at a point in my life when I was go-getting every day of the week.  I thought about that, and over the years, I have taken more and more time on Sunday mornings to relax, meditate, and take time for myself.  That has become such a blessing to me. 

This Sunday morning, I am especially enjoying the time for relaxation and introspection. I am blessed to have this luxury in my life.

Viktor Frankl

I receive a daily devotional.  While it is Christian-based, it does not always coincide with my particular perspective on my spirituality, and it sometimes is a little too conservative and fanatical for my taste. However, part of the reason for receiving it includes to force me to search my soul and expand my boundaries. I am selective of the issues I read, and even more selective of the message I incorporate or adopt for myself.  I have searched for other devotionals, but so far, have not found one suited for what I want.

Recently, the devotional I do receive has consisted of a series of quotes from Viktor Frankl http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viktor_Frankl.  I remember, years ago, reading his book:  Man's Search for Meaning.  (It has been a long time, however.)  When I started working at the prison, I was reminded about that book, and the meaning it's message can have for the patients. I really need to read that book again.

Recently, I have worked with a large number patients who have very long sentences, and are stressing over this.  Additionally, uniquely, they have been, if not well educated, at least intelligent enough to conceptualize and think abstractly and existentially.  I have referred several to Man's Search for Meaning.  Recently, I spoke to a patient who had recently read the book. While he acknowledged he "got it," he also indicated he could not really generalize it to his situation. I understand this. That is why just reading a book is not the answer for patients. They need the perspective and reflection that a counselor can provide, along with exploring the meaning of the book.  Unfortunately, due to budget constraints, counseling availability where I work is minimal.

However, something is better than nothing, and I am reminded of how important Frankl's work truly is.

Chasing Flies

So, Taki is chasing flies tonight.  She has actually been running around trying new jumps and new experiences today, and did so yesterday.  Tonight, she is chasing flies.  She is very active and seems to be having a good time at it.

Sometimes, I think I chase flies.  I flit from thing to thing, trying to get things accomplished, but not really finishing anything, rather aimlessly.   My vacation has been like that, since I returned from New England. Well, not totally.  I did accomplish some things. But a large portion of my time was spent flitting, doing things I like: reading, playing on the computer, sitting in the back yard, but not actually accomplishing any one thing concretely. But moving, whether or not, aimlessly.  Enjoying the aimlessness of it. With only a twinge of guilt at not being more productive or accomplishing more.

That is okay.  My big goal for the next couple of days is to attend at least one Memorial Day ceremony.  Years ago, it would not have mattered. But my reverence for those who protect us, whether in the military, the police, the fire department, the jails and prisons, has escalated exponentially in the last 4 or 5 years.  I was slow to grow the appreciation, but it is there above and beyond, now. Honoring those who serve is nothing like chasing flies.

Wimpy and walking

I was an early subscriber to the intelligence of animals.  When I was very young, I am not sure what age, maybe 7, our family adopted a dachsund that we named Wimpy. I am not sure that was a fair name for him, because he was anything but. When he caught scent of squirrel or other game, he was determined to track it down and bring it home.

Once, a neighbor found him on the highway a couple of miles from our home, as he was following the trail my brother had left hiking out of town.  And if we put him out, and a female was in heat, he was sure to be in the pack.

As he and I grew older, he liked his walk around the neighborhood block. I remember some nights when he was very restless, and cried incessantly. I remember telling my mother he wanted his walk. She was hesitant to allow this as it was perhaps 9:30 or 10 PM, but she decided, after a while, he would settle down with such a walk, and I was allowed to do so. 

Wimpy slept on the sofa. If we had company who stayed after his 9:30 or 10 PM bed time, he would be very restless and whine and complain. 

Wimpy died in the winter of my senior year at high school.  I was outside shoveling snow, and he was with me, but he wanted to go inside. He would not go inside without me,  as he was a stubborn old cuss. He suffered a stroke later that same week. I always have blamed myself that if I had gone inside, Wimpy might have lived longer . But God was  watching out for us. In a few months, I was would be going off to college, and what would have happended to his soul, then, if I had left him.

The veterinarian did not want me present when they euthanized him. A few years later, he apologized, saying he understood that would have been more healing for me.  My mother did not understand my grief, and almost mocked me, but my father was a saint, and helped me make a coffin for him, and bury him behind our house.  To this day, this recounting evokes emotions so deep I can not describe.  I am accepting of the loss of this good friend but my heart breaks over it still.

It is for this reason that I can not read or view stories about faithful animal friends, especially canines without extreme emotional distress.

Intrusion and Noise

I really do not have anything in particular to write about tonight.  But, I have discovered that when that is the case, if I turn off the TV and other ambient noise makers, I can say something.

How many of us are able to be with ourselves, without intrusive noise distracting us?

How many of us can meditate on internal thoughts, internal centers?

I have been known to say that I enjoy listening to the grass grow. And, I do. Which is a stretch for someone who knows me at work, and sees a goal directed, ever working person, always taking in the cues and clues from the environment.  

I can be calm. I can enjoy idyllic, pastoral settings, with little information or input from the surrounding world. I know how to slow down. Sometimes, it takes extreme effort to do so. But, when I do, I am blessed.