There was a ton of stuff left out of the last post about Christmas, the solstice, etc. Just as well.
One thing I edited out was recounting my feeling of a huge, life-long set of reactions, attitudes, preconceptions, strategies, and habits that had utterly exhausted any usefulness at all. In fact, from my present perspective, most of this is hopelessly destructive and insane. I mean, really. I know what brought me this far, and it’s the same thing that motivates me still, but that OTHER crap has got to go. That’s what’s behind hitching a ride with the solstice and being reborn along with the sun.
So much needs to burn. I’ll have to build a bonfire outside in the snow.
What’s feels remarkable to me, though, besides the depth and breadth of useless baggage, is that we always get another chance, because the universe is always open for business. I guess that amounts to a holiday message.
Anyway, it fits!
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http://ionarts.blogspot.com/
‘The encore was introduced with the words, “What is better than music by Beethoven? For us, music by Bach.” A contained, quasi-monastic reading of the latter’s chorale Nun sich der Tag geendet hat (see this beautiful 17th-century English version) sealed the spirit of musical prayer.’
Now that the sun doth shine no more,
And day hath reach’d its close,
They calmly sleep who wept before,
The wearied find repose.
And if this night my last should prove
In this dark land, I pray
Then take me to Thy heaven above,
The home of endless day.
- — -
Pablo Valetti (Violin).
Stephen Pfister (Violon).
Friederike Heumann (Viole de gambe).
Juan Manuel Quintana (Viole de Gambe).
Andreas Scholl (Countertenor)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KMt-1VEy5Ic
I like “we always get another chance” and “the universe is always open for business”. You can carve those sentiments on my tombstone. I also like to think of the moment that the earth starts to swing back toward the sun and the darkness starts to recede. Our hairy-assed forebears figured they had to whoop it up for the good old sun, or else it would disappear forever and leave them shivering in the dark beside their sputtering fires. I reckon there’s a pretty straight path from those primitive imaginings to the more elegant notion of a redeemer-creator God coming into the dreary fallen world as a helpless babe who would make it all new for us. It’s a pity I can’t seem to believe in any of this. Francis Bacon and Rene Descartes made us see the nonsense of such fantasies, thereby condemning us to live in a disenchanted world. I don’t know about you, but on some days I long for the Middle Ages.