Of shows and other things
Once again, 2008 doesn't disappoint, and more bad news comes my way. It isn't something I feel like talking about here, nor should I, so it will remain unspoken of further. Nevertheless, this past week has been a difficult one, bringing a lot conflicting emotions to the surface. My heart has felt sluggish and hyperactive. And any resolutions that have come out of this have done so sluggishly, like bubbles in a tar pit, tensing, stretching and finally popping in resignation.
But as always, life isn't all bad. And I fight myself over which feelings to indulge; sometimes craning my neck towards the skies in search of silver linings, while other times I blow on those melancholic embers which seem to permanantly to burn somewhere inside me. But often this struggle between the negative and the positive, and the paradox of life's duality, simply exhausts me, and I am forced to disconnect. I have done a fair bit of that this week: going to the park with some poems, working myself sore in the gym, television show marathons, bypassing my problems in favor of larger existential ones... There is always something to distract me for a little while.
This evening I went to a Feist concert with Paz. I suppose I have more frustration and anger inside of me than I thought, courtesy of 2008. After finding good spots and waiting for several hours of opening bands and technical problems, Feist was going to come on. Suddenly, the guy in front of us started phoning all his friends in the club, telling them that show was going to start and to go to where he was. Now, I have no problem with someone saving a spot or two for a couple friends, but the couple quickly turned into 5, 6, 7, 8... who knows how many he started pushing in front of us. As the guy reached for his phone again, I became annoyed. Feeling as cheated as someone who watches as people cut in line in front of him, I asked the guy (quite politely, I may add) how many more he was planning on inviting. He ignored me as he finished his phone call and then turned to me and said that it was bad manners to listen in on people's conversations. My irritation quickly turned to annoyance. I reiterated that it wasn't fair to the rest of us for him to push a crowd of his friends ahead of everyone and asked him not to invite any more. He kept nodding sarcastically at me the whole time and in the end just said "enjoy the show", the phrase dripping with irony. It took all of my willpower not to punch him in the face. Those of you who know me know that I am not a person prone to anger or violence, in fact I tend to bottle things up in a passive aggressive way rather than look for conflict. With this in mind, I felt like hitting him. Instead I gave him the finger.
His final friend showed up, but looking at me they both moved behind us. Of course, as we waited I began to feel bad about that reaction and about my gut desire for aggression. These things went against all my desires to follow the basic tenets of Christ's teachings. My goal to achieve pure love for everyone around me was not reflected in my one fingered salute. So I turned around and apologized for my outburst. "I thought I was going to lose my glasses" the guy told me, confirming that my rage had been visible in my facial expression. I still think I was justified in my annoyance, but it was not worth pummeling someone, whether that was in real life or in my heart. And it was not worth ruining anyone's concert over.
Luckily, the concert was fantastic. Definitely in the top 3 shows I've ever seen. Leslie Feist had that audience wrapped around her finger. Her voice is just as clear yet broken, innocent yet seductive as in her recordings. Her band was tight as well, but really, it was her power that made the show. Also, the whole word "show" couldn't be more accurate in her case. The lighting and multimedia was excellent, mostly made up of a projector and two shadow puppeteers. If you ever have the chance to see her, do so. I was blown away.
But anyway, it is late and I am tired. Physically, my body aches; partially from the concert, partially as a reminder of what I did to myself in the gym a few days ago. Mentally, I am exhausted; tired of playing the same scratched record over and over in my brain as I try to work things out. Emotionally and Spiritually, the two have run into one; and, like a snake biting it's own tail, it is difficult to find where one starts and the other ends. In these cases the only cure is sleep. Like the Bard said, "[it is] Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast." So, as it seems that I am starving for Life these days, it seems that my "feast" most likely awaits me under the covers. Goodnight.
But as always, life isn't all bad. And I fight myself over which feelings to indulge; sometimes craning my neck towards the skies in search of silver linings, while other times I blow on those melancholic embers which seem to permanantly to burn somewhere inside me. But often this struggle between the negative and the positive, and the paradox of life's duality, simply exhausts me, and I am forced to disconnect. I have done a fair bit of that this week: going to the park with some poems, working myself sore in the gym, television show marathons, bypassing my problems in favor of larger existential ones... There is always something to distract me for a little while.
This evening I went to a Feist concert with Paz. I suppose I have more frustration and anger inside of me than I thought, courtesy of 2008. After finding good spots and waiting for several hours of opening bands and technical problems, Feist was going to come on. Suddenly, the guy in front of us started phoning all his friends in the club, telling them that show was going to start and to go to where he was. Now, I have no problem with someone saving a spot or two for a couple friends, but the couple quickly turned into 5, 6, 7, 8... who knows how many he started pushing in front of us. As the guy reached for his phone again, I became annoyed. Feeling as cheated as someone who watches as people cut in line in front of him, I asked the guy (quite politely, I may add) how many more he was planning on inviting. He ignored me as he finished his phone call and then turned to me and said that it was bad manners to listen in on people's conversations. My irritation quickly turned to annoyance. I reiterated that it wasn't fair to the rest of us for him to push a crowd of his friends ahead of everyone and asked him not to invite any more. He kept nodding sarcastically at me the whole time and in the end just said "enjoy the show", the phrase dripping with irony. It took all of my willpower not to punch him in the face. Those of you who know me know that I am not a person prone to anger or violence, in fact I tend to bottle things up in a passive aggressive way rather than look for conflict. With this in mind, I felt like hitting him. Instead I gave him the finger.
His final friend showed up, but looking at me they both moved behind us. Of course, as we waited I began to feel bad about that reaction and about my gut desire for aggression. These things went against all my desires to follow the basic tenets of Christ's teachings. My goal to achieve pure love for everyone around me was not reflected in my one fingered salute. So I turned around and apologized for my outburst. "I thought I was going to lose my glasses" the guy told me, confirming that my rage had been visible in my facial expression. I still think I was justified in my annoyance, but it was not worth pummeling someone, whether that was in real life or in my heart. And it was not worth ruining anyone's concert over.
Luckily, the concert was fantastic. Definitely in the top 3 shows I've ever seen. Leslie Feist had that audience wrapped around her finger. Her voice is just as clear yet broken, innocent yet seductive as in her recordings. Her band was tight as well, but really, it was her power that made the show. Also, the whole word "show" couldn't be more accurate in her case. The lighting and multimedia was excellent, mostly made up of a projector and two shadow puppeteers. If you ever have the chance to see her, do so. I was blown away.
But anyway, it is late and I am tired. Physically, my body aches; partially from the concert, partially as a reminder of what I did to myself in the gym a few days ago. Mentally, I am exhausted; tired of playing the same scratched record over and over in my brain as I try to work things out. Emotionally and Spiritually, the two have run into one; and, like a snake biting it's own tail, it is difficult to find where one starts and the other ends. In these cases the only cure is sleep. Like the Bard said, "[it is] Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast." So, as it seems that I am starving for Life these days, it seems that my "feast" most likely awaits me under the covers. Goodnight.
Comments