You didn't hear it

You didn't hear it, you didn't see it!
You won't say nothin' to no one, Ever in your life.
You never heard it.How absurd it all seems, without any proof!

You didn't hear it, you didn't see it!
You never heard it, not a word of it!
You won't say nothin' to no one, Never tell a soul what you know is the truth!

My older brother Phil took me to see the movie Tommy when I was just a kid and it made quite an impression on me. My parents took me to see the play version when I was in college and I liked that too. In the scene, young Tommy is traumatized by his mom having an affair and then the Dad walking in, only to have Dad murdered upon his discovery by the lover, so the mom and lover yell at the boy and tell him it never happened, and Tommy proceeds to go deaf, dumb, and blind as his way of dealing with such a troubling event. Thanks to all who took me to see a version of that - I appreciate it. With that said, stop reading right here - because I am about to re-hash the same thing I have re-hashed here time after time that some of you don't really care to read about. Not that I take pleasure in this, but what I write about here is what is on my mind and the proposed re-union of my family has been on my mind lately - probably more than it should be, but apparently it takes quite a bit of effort to convince some that I in fact definitely will not be attending - and this writing is a way of stating my case, for those who may or may not be interested.

I identify with Tommy - I felt like the first half of my life I was deaf, dumb and blind to my own emotions and feelings, since I had a very limited capability of expressing them at the time. I did not have an environment where I was allowed to express them. Kind of like in a hard line dictatorship country, if you went against the party line there was hell to pay. So - the first half of my life - living at home - in between the unpleasant events - I remember kind of a dull empty numbness as the main emotion I experienced - maybe in trying to tune everything out the same way Tommy did, that was how I got by.

On one level, I am past blaming those who raised me entirely since on a rational level, I buy into the spiritual notion that we choose our situations, past and present, and even on a karma level. I am not a victim of my past if it was the past that was meant for me, and I believe it was. All the same, at a time in my past I did not have any choice about my surroundings, and what is now different is I do have the choice of what I can experience. Emotionally however, when certain unresolved emotions spring to the surface, I know I do feel a certain amount of rage and blame, even if I know I should not rationally feel those things based on my beliefs. Proposed re-unions have a way of sending me back to that dark place in my psyche.

For better or for worse, I grew up around the dominant caretaker personality classified by my last therapist as "borderline". That is my experience, and everything that I have experienced supports that notion. In my mind it really happened - unless someone went back and just re-loaded my memory banks for me (like the robots in a Twilight Zone episode) - and I have no reason to believe my memory is lying to me, although - who knows what is real in the scheme of things. I trust my own memory and as you all know - growing up in my house was not exactly a picnic. Studying the concept of borderline - switching from unpredictable extremes, just imagine if you do not know from day to day if you are going to experience love or hatred, pleasant conversation or vengeful screaming, whether the ground beneath your feet will be there or crack into an infinite amount of pieces beneath you. That was my experience growing up - I had to go through it, it shaped who I am and who I always will be, and in addition to maybe having a few loose screws in place through genetics to start with, my nurturing environment definitely added a few more twists to the equation. That is the way it was, even if it was nobody's fault in particular, as I realize all tried their best, but it doesn't mean I am going to come out and say it never happened.

I don't re-write my history, I tell it the way I see it and the way I remember it, for better or for worse. My memory is that any time something troubling happened, I was then told it never happened, which is quite confusing to say the least, and the reason I chose the song from Tommy. If I reported my experience, I was lying, I was exaggerating, and those who told me this as a reflection of their own denial would not listen to anything else - and to this day, they still don't believe me - which is fine. Wherever you are coming from - that is up to you. This happens to be where I am coming from though. Spending years of therapy and trying to sort it out, it has given me a model to work with and allowed me to make some changes to try to fix what is broken.

When I stop and wonder why the idea of being around my family at the age of 41 leaves me feeling depressed, angry, and anxious - to an extreme - all at the same time - I have to ask - why do those feelings arise? Not even going up on a tall roof does that to me any more, but the idea of being around my family - as a whole - does set me off . Never mind that one of my brothers and my sister really don't care for me all that much - or what I represent to them anyways - that is the way it is and I can't change that. Do I deserve this - maybe so or maybe not. Some of this is for actions committed when I was 4 years old, and at that time in my life, I would argue I was not really in control of myself too well. Other reasons have nothing to do with me altogether. But it doesn't matter - we are a distant family, we always will be, most of us choose to communicate with each other as rarely as possible - and that is just the way it was meant to be - I have long given up on trying to change it - for every time I do, I just am disappointed - and who needs that. I can handle any member of my family individually - but when I get them altogether, it brings me back to the point where I had the instability of not knowing what extreme I would be thrown into, and it is pretty unpleasant. It is like choosing to "step into the freezer" when there is another option of a nice sunny day to experience. My Dad does not like boiled carrots because it reminds him of the poverty he experienced when he grew up. I am not having a misery competition here and I am grateful I did not grow up in material poverty, but I grew up in emotional poverty. Family reunions to me are what boiled carrots are to him.

Quite frankly - growing up was not all that much fun for me. When my family is together, I return to that state - and although I had to be there then, I really have no interest in being there now. There is nothing therapeutic or cathartic about it, it just brings me to a lot of emotions buried deep in my psyche that make my life harder than it needs to be. If I could draw a sketch of my life, the happiest times (with the exception of being stoned out of my mind on pot) in my life were away from my family. I moved to San Diego - 100 miles away - life got a little better, although it had its ups and downs. I moved out to the Reno area, and this has been the happiest time overall I can think of. Now - the idea of being around them - even knowing an event is a good year and months away, plants the seed in my head, and then my mind is racing - should I do it out of guilt, do I owe those who raised me this - should I do it because I am supposed to, or should I do what I want? And the answer I come to - as selfish as it sounds is - what I want comes first. I can't be there for anyone if I am not there for myself, like the Dead song says:

There are times when you get hit up on,Try hard but you cannot give.
Other times, you'd gladly part with what you need to live.

This is doing what I need to do for my own sanity and well being. I can start with good intentions, thinking sure - I will just play along, but then that passive aggressive rage starts erupting like a demon within me, and once I am locked in with a commitment than I find myself getting angry at those who I made the agreement with, and then I want to say fuck you and back out of it, and by then the cost of the cruise is shot, I don't go anyways, and then everyone is real pissed off - more so than they are if I just stop the avalanche from erupting while it is just a snowball. I know how my mind works and I know where the train is going, so instead of going through all that hell, I just say - no - forget it - this is not what I want. It has taken me a long time to figure out what I want, and when I tried to live for my parents one time, it just brought me to death's door. I don't want to be around an environment that brings me back to the uncertainty of my former life, I don't really want to be around people who don't care for me to begin with, and I don't want to go the Tommy route and hear about how much of a happy close family we all are and watch those making that pronouncement get ripped on booze while making these sentimental pronouncements, since drinking is their way of coping with such an unnatural and uncomfortable event. I don't drink any more, so I can't join the party. At this point in my life - I just want to take care of myself and be happy. As a child I didn't know how to do that, now I am slowly learning how to, and I know what I need and want. I don't need this.

As far as family re-unions go, any situation where I am not locked in, committed with loads of time to dwell on it - would possibly fly. That is how I was able to see my folks last summer - no pressure - no commitments, it felt right the day of the trip and I went with it - and it went pretty well from what I remember. Hell - let's all meet up at the Bucket of Blood Saloon in Virginia City - I won't have to put my animals in a kennel, won't have to stress out about traveling - it is just down the street and what place could be more fitting for my family. Drinks are on me - I'm buying. Okay - probably ain't gonna happen, but me stepping foot on a boat isn't either. For those who are going on this trip - I really hope you have a good time. Just because I feel this way doesn't mean you should, if that is your thing and you are meant to experience this, who am I to tell you what to do or not do. All I ask is that you do the same - don't hold me hostage for the family experience, the last one ever - we never were a family and half of the time I heard very negative messages about my brothers and sisters. Step up and accept that preaching those messages is not going to plant the seeds for a close family. 40 years later, loading up on booze and having us all sit around a table feeling very uncomfortable will not change what always was and always will be. It reminds me of the Cats in the Cradle song. From my perspective anyways, you would have to be deaf, dumb and blind to see it differently than that.

Blood on the rise it's following me

Theres blood in the streets, its up to my ankles She came
Theres blood on the streets, its up to my knee She came
Blood on the streets in the town of chicago She came
Blood on the rise, its following me
Think about the break of day
She came and then she drove away Sunlight in her hair She came
Blood in the streets runs a river of sadness

Okay - time to go topical - obviously we had one of the bloodiest events in our history happen - so I guess I got to join the millions of bloggers who discuss this. Unlike some who might focus on whether V-tech authorities screwed up, whether or not guns should be so available (Bowling for Columbine already covered that pretty well in my opinion) - really the psychological aspect of the ordeal is what interests me. My approach might be a little bit out there, but no need to call the police - I am not planning on hurting anyone - the only one I have ever tried to hurt is myself, and if it ever got back down to that dark place, that is the only person I would ever intend to - but all the same - as crazy at it sounds - I can relate to the killer to a degree. Reading the writings of Jim Morrison above - and some of his stuff - like Celebration of the Lizard - was far more out there than that - if the warning sign threshold was a matter of writings of violence, than they should have locked him up too. Like a newspaper article says, half of Hollywood writers would be arrested if the thoughts on paper alone were the threshold of a prediction of violence. Some of my earlier writings are full or rage, violence and despair, not at all the happy new age spiritual cheese-head guru type that I am now.

The killers at Columbine and Cho have something in common - they were outcasts in a society where survival of the fittest prevails, and the folks at the bottom of the pecking order are left to fend for themselves. Us outcasts are ostracized, picked on, humiliated, beat up and the scars last a long time. Although I did not get too much of the physical assault at school that these guys did, I know what it felt like to be rejected, not part of the popular group, looked down upon and I know how these guys can feel so hopeless and angry that they want to strike back in a violent manner upon the people who did this to them. We live in a cruel world, where racism and brutality are a part of life in all classes of society. Apparently the Mexicans and the white folks are fighting it out at a school near where I live, to the point that the Latinos are going to go to private school. Our daughter - as mentioned before - is dealing with bullies, and she is having stomach problems as a result. The schools look the other way, maybe they are understaffed, don't have the resources or priorities to deal with this - and then when these things happen, it to me demonstrates that our priorities are not where they are supposed to be. Psychological ailments should not be looked down upon, mental health should be available to all as it is in some countries, but where we live, we spend billions of dollars to chase our tails fighting terrorism, while here within our own borders, mentally ill people walk the streets in despair because the hospitals kick them out into the streets due to lack of government funding. Our country does a great job for those in power, and the privileged, but for those at the bottom - it is either screw you, or we can throw you in prison when you become too much of a problem. It seems like prevention is the best cure, and even Cho in his ranting diatribe said there were many opportunities to prevent this that were never taken. It only takes something like this to get everyone's attention, and even then people still seem to miss the point altogether.

I also find it interesting how - as tragic as it may be that 33 people died - that we seem to set a new bar when it is one of "our" guys. On the lower page of the newspaper, there is a blurb that almost 200 people died in a suicide bombing in Iraq, but that is "over there" and not one of our people, nobody cares, and it almost seems to have a racist tone to me. When a group of Americans die, than it becomes national news, Nancy Grace runs out to broadcast in tears at the scene of the crime, and then people pay attention. In my mind we are all human beings - so shouldn't we be equally outraged when people die of starvation, brutality, and violence - everywhere - not just here?? Where are the troops in Darfur where genocide is taking place? Not part of the war on terror - so just let 'em die I guess.

Our society is not based on compassion, helping the poor, the helpless, the homeless, the ones that do fall through the cracks. Especially the "conservative" elements, it is the notion of I scored, I got lucky, here is my little piece of wealth, don't raise my taxes, don't ask for any help from me, let me load up on guns in case any of you trespass on my property - I am an island, and screw you. That works great if we are all islands, but in my mind we are all interdependent, we are one human organism - and if one part of the organism is sick, than we all are. It is in the best interests of that organism for all portions of it to be healthy. That is where - in my mind - our society is all messed up. We only care about our own families, our own selves, our own well being - and all the TV can tell us is that the more shit we accumulate, the happier we are going to be. And yet as one of the world's wealthiest peoples, we don't seem all that happy to me at all. These events to me reveal the denial we are all in, the sickness that our society is embedded in - when one of us is sick, we all are, when a group of us dies, a part of all of us dies - especially when the media runs images of violence into the ground.

What separates me from a mass murderer? I have a faith in a higher power, I believe in karma, despite all the unresolved rage and anger that still lurks in my psyche, and unfortunately it is not all gone, my own experience has led me to believe that I am a part of something greater. Were it not for a few twists of fate, I could have been just a lost as one of them, in a mental institution, in prison, or dead from drug abuse. Don't let my professional face fool you, I am far from healed, even though I support our family and do my job quite well. Inside me, all it takes is a note from a member of my family to tell me about an upcoming event that I have no interest in participating in, and all of those dormant feelings start to rise again - rage, anxiety amongst them. Where Ram Daas once said in one of his books that he thrived on the feelings of conflict that came up with his family, I do not thrive at all - all it does is bring me back to feeling 20 years old again - and the potential to sink right back into that black hole - as a result - is very real. It is all hanging by a thread even now to some degree, and just to placate others and put my own feelings on the back burner is re-living a pattern of passive aggressiveness that led to my collapse to begin with. It may be selfish and going against some of the ideals I discussed earlier, but taking care of my psyche to keep myself afloat really is my priority. It is a miracle that I have come to the point where I am, but there is nothing saying that I cannot fall back into the depths of despair that I once lived, and because I have a wife and child to take care of, I simply have to do everything in my power to keep that from happening, even if a couple people are highly offended and upset as a result of that.

Meanwhile - my heart goes out to those that died on Monday - all of them - even the killer - they were all victims of the same sickness as far as I can see. I cannot even begin to imagine what it would be like to be the parents of one of those kids who was shot in the head. I just hope that we can learn something from this, but I remain skeptical. Columbine was not too long ago, and other than a bunch of lawyers who walked away with a truck load of money, as will happen again, I am not really convinced that anything has changed. And if nothing changes, all the laws and reform in the world will not keep this from happening again.

15 seconds of fame - the local newspaper

That's my potruding stomach on the upper right hand corner of the top photo

My balls feel like a pair of maracas

Ah eee ah

Well - starting last night, I started experiencing some of the worst pain I have EVER felt in my life. I can now relate to torture victims. My right testicle is absolutely killing me. The doctor already checked me out and right now it does not look like cancer or anything serious, but it still hurts like a mother-f***er. What happens is about twice an hour, I feel a wave of intense pain come over me. Now I know what it must feel like to be electrocuted there, because that is what it feels like - like someone is piercing a knife through it. Last night as I lay awake I realized what must go through the minds of those who have a life affecting illness thrown upon them. What would I do, how would I support us if I had to go into the hospital to undergo chemo. It is pretty frightening. As of now, that does not appear to be the situation anyways, but it is going to be wait and see. The most probable suspected cause of this is my dog giving me a good paw swipe there a couple days ago and a delayed reaction. Most likely this will pass, at least my doc says so, but I will have to see if there is improvement on Thursday. Meanwhile - the feeling of having a drill going through your testicle - I would not wish this upon anyone.

But I sure got some powerful pills

oh yeah

This song was written by Trey Anastasio of Phish, and if you link his name there, you can see that he was arrested for the very powerful pills he referenced in his Fluffhead song, and if you are so inclined, double clicking on the top two words here you can see those words as well. One of my favorite political reggae performers, Michael Franti, references "TV commercials for a popping pill culture, Drug companies circling like a vulture" in his title song of Yellfire. We live in a culture where pills are a very strong part of our lives. Some people need to take their pills to stay alive, due to heart disease, cancer, and other life threatening ailments. My focus on this rant is an issue that hits pretty close to home, both in my life, and now in the life of my child - and that would be psychiatric medication. To double back to my often repeated story of my depression I experienced at the age of around 19 to 20, it became an issue when I was told that I had a chemical imbalance that required medication. My shrink put me on lithium, at a somewhat questionable part of the bipolar cycle, since I was pretty far down at that point - but I did what I was told and I did get over my depression pretty quickly and I took lithium for a couple more years, approximately. It was pretty much implied that I needed to take it for the rest of my life, but against the advice of my psychiatric advisor, I went off of it on my own. Other than an occasional xanax or kava for anxiety (it has been almost 10 years since I have taken anything other than kava for it), I have lived my life mostly medication free, and have also given up alcohol and marijuana which I once used as a form of what is known as "self-medication". Probably just about every one of the White family children has taken some form of medication at one time or another.

My personal feeling about psychiatric medication is this - you take it if you absolutely have to - and if you don't have to, don't. My threshold is as follows - if you can function in society in the role placed upon you, student, employee, whatever that role means - than if there is a way not to take it, refrain. I believe that the culture described in Michael Franti's lyrics has gone to the extreme of over-medicating, often at the expense of our bodies and profit of the drug companies, and I think it is a dangerous trend. In its extreme, it almost suggests that any emotion to an extreme is not acceptable, and that we are to (as one of my friends once used this phrase) turn to an "emotional lobotomy" at the first sign of trouble. I believe that to experience a healthy state of mind and to heal any lurking demons that may be present, that access is needed to a full range of emotions, and although given the choice I would just aim for the summer time highs when I am outside playing my guitar, I also realize that the winter time grief and mourning I experience, something that came out in full force on a spring day yesterday - so certainly not limited to the winter, is in fact an equally necessary part of my existence. If we can practice the Buddhist meditational advice of detaching from emotions, and not getting too attached to any of them, than they can pass by without harming us. Positive and negative emotions can be harmful if you get too attached to either of them. I have been blessed with the ability to write and compose music that in its purest form can serve as my own medication. I have seen it work, I know it works, and I will go so far as to say that without it I would have never reached the place in my life where I have a good career at a good company, and can support my family here. (This is my first official comment on my new job, I don't want to give out names, be it good or bad, but it has been quite clear over the last 3 months that this job has been a huge improvement over my last one.)

When I saw my last therapist, I told her of my history and she strongly recommended I go back on medication. Although I appreciated her input, I explained why I chose not to do this and at one point I believed I actually saw her eyes water because she was inspired by my approach to life. One of my (so called) friends (ex-girlfriend) has told me to go on it as this is the only way she functions - and she barely does function even with them. This works for me - for now anyways - because even when I am pretty emotional, to the point where I feel like crying or feel very sad, I can still keep it together and hold my job, and still do a good job. I will always keep that threshold in mind though, if I ever reach the point where that is not the case, I am open to taking it again. Hopefully that never happens, but who can really say what the future will bring.

That being said, I now go the experience of my daughter. To recap, her stomach symptoms last year placed her in the emergency room two nights, and the hospital an additional two nights and days, and it was a nightmare for all of us - particularly for her, but really for all of us as well. The endoscopy ruled out any biological condition, and the allergist ruled out allergies, and now it is clear to us that all of her symptoms are part of a stress syndrome, and they are almost textbook. I got a book called "Kid Stress" which spells out all symptoms she has experienced: stomach pain, nausea, chest pain, headaches. She even worked herself into a fever and I had to pick her up from school, and when she got home, the symptoms were gone. This is not all traced to one particular incident as we once suspected, there is no one interaction with a friend of hers that this all falls upon, but a cumulation of many incidents combined. Possibly these were fears that she picked up from her mother while in the womb, or maybe a combination of the two fearful personalities of her Mom and Dad. We are both her parents, and despite her having more of my personality apparently, we are both a big part of who she is - with 50% of her genetics coming from each one of us. She came into this world in fear, she has picked up a lot of our fears, and now her fears are causing very painful symptoms to the point where she can barely be in school due to all of her symptoms getting out of control.

So - crossing the threshold I once mentioned earlier, in my mind, I have to reluctantly admit that my 8 year old daughter needs psychiatric medication. It is not my first choice, but at this point it has gotten so extreme that I don't see any other alternative. I don't see how she can stay in school as long as she experiences this illness. With me, it was a somewhat temporary experience, and it is my hope that it is also temporary for her. I also hope that she can draw from my own ability to use mental states of calming and spirituality to eventually reach the point where this can happen drug free. Until then, unfortunately, this path is the one we must choose. It probably goes without saying that this continues to be difficult for all of us, and if anyone in my family, or family of friends, happens to be reading this and wants to offer their good wishes and support, it would be very much appreciated. Thanks.

Turn off your mind, relax and float down stream

From my favorite song written by John Lennon (never mind what the credits say):
Tomorrow Never Knows - I can spend a whole post on this song, and God only knows how such a horrible song (Got to Get You Into My Life) written by Lennon's horribly inferior song writing counter part, could come before it on the album, but that is a whole discussion in itself.

For those familiar with our daughter's struggles last year, they have not entirely gone away. We have finally figured out over a period of time that her digestive ailments and painful stomach conditions are all related to her stress, but a recent consultation took it a step further, and gave the diagnosis that it is directly related to her nervous system, that her nervous system is not equipped to deal with the stress that just about all of us face in our lives, so that what it does is to in essence shut down, and then comes out in extremely painful stomach symptoms, or at one time even came out as what appeared to be food allergy symptoms (later food allergies were ruled out). It is Easter vacation now, but last week she barely attended school, and the two times she tried she barely made it a couple hours, when the reaction to another child there who has hit her caused her to get these symptoms, and even a fever, so that she had to leave. One of the times her condition instantly improved as soon as she walked in the door, but then knowing she had to (possibly) return to school the next day they came right back, so it is clearly situational. It is not to the extreme that it was last year, when we could not sleep at night and made several trips to the hospital emergency room at horrible times to be doing that, but if left unattended it could very well get to that point.

Although I see this in her at an extreme, as I never left school with stomach ailments, I remember plenty of stress in my life as well and when it cumulated in college, my own "medication" was getting high, and when I tried to break off that, my break down emotionally into a depression to a certain degree is kind of the same idea as what my daughter is now going through. Looking around and seeing how many of us are dependent on some kind of substance - be it alcohol, marijuana, and even the completely evil crystal meth, I think it is evident that what my daughter is going through on a very intense level is a symptom of what many of us in our society experience - we are overwhelmed with stress, stimuli and pressure and we need to medicate ourselves one way or another to deal with that. I saw in the paper today that football running back Ricky Williams says he got stoned to deal with the stress and pressure, but now appears to be confident that yoga can take the place of marijuana and that he will not need to get high any more. Even with all the bad press he has gotten, I can completely relate to this - since I have been there.

For me if there was anything good about the days that I turned to the herb to medicate myself was that they showed me a place I could go to that got me away from the stresses of the world I was living in, a beautiful place where I could float in a womb-like state through beautiful sunset canvasses while the music I would be listening to provided that backdrop. Later on, all my Grateful Dead shows took me into that same dream like world, and although I experience a few of them in a chemically altered state, I also realized I was capable of "getting there", getting high so to speak - in a completely unaltered state and that just the music itself could take me there. I kind of touched on this on my last post about Durga, but now I find that at certain times of the day, my favorite being around the time the sun is setting and the sky takes on a beautiful dreamlike quality, that when I pick up the guitar and face the west through my window in this room, I can get there too. Music is my form of meditation, although I know meditation has the same potential. My friend Kirk once had the idea that my mind was racing so much with internal agendas of its own that music was the only thing that could quiet it down. During my long trips throughout Northern Nevada, my CD player fueled me and gave me the energy to keep going. There are times when the right music is on at the right time, combined with the natural landscapes and scenery that this area has to offer, and then just driving can take on that meditative state. This is why I know I personally would go crazy in a big city, I need a place like this - scenic, calming, spiritually soothing - to relax me. This is why despite the differences we have here, this is where I need to be - and unfortunately that is not a shared sentiment. When I pick up the guitar in that state, anyone who does not know better might think I am "high" and the truth is, I am high - but it is not a chemical state. The same happens at the drum circles, it is like a slow wave that is pulling me somewhere, to that alternate peaceful world where the presence of the spirits, the God and Goddess - whatever you want to call it - and words don't even give it justice - but when I am there, the world is a magical place and then I find it is hard not to believe in something very powerful above and beyond me, something that feels very warm and loving.

I briefly reference and link an interview on Fresh Air where Richard Dawkins has scientifically and rationally dis-proven the existence of God. And although I could not technically and logically dispute one point of his, at the same time, these experiences point my heart to believe that there is in fact something way beyond the notion of logic and science. My heart tells me what my rational mind does not. And I always allow the possibility that I am wrong, that the world is in fact nothing but a bunch of chemicals, without any spirit of any kind - but even if I am just deluding myself as this interview suggests, I know that this form of medicine centers me, give me faith in myself and the world I live in, and this keeps me going - keeps me there and ready for the challenges and pressures that my job and my relationships place upon me. I know there is a way to get from here to there, because I have gone from a world view of feeling that life was impossibly overhwelming and demanding, to one where I recognize that despite its demands and pressures, that there is a spiritual beauty from without and within that makes it all worth it. I have gotten from here to there - my daughter is a part of me - I believe that with my help and help from others, she can and will do the same.

Durga

Today we went to see this performance at the Brewery Arts Center in Carson City performed very well by its creator, Liz Broscoe, and probably the best performance we have seen in Carson City of any kind. This lady was amazing on every level as far as her ability to make music with her hands, but what I liked about it was that it points out what I have known for years now, that you don't have to be a musical wizard to really get into the meditational spirit of the music - that music is one of the best forms of medicine out there that has no chemical side effects of any kind. At the drum circles I have attended lately at Comma Coffee in Carson City, I am definitely not close to being the best one there, but as one of the songs in the production said, being best doesn't matter - it is getting into the rhythm and the groove that does. It has taken me a while with my guitar and singing, and I am never going to aspire or claim to be a virtuoso, but it doesn't matter - because music is a vehicle and whether you are driving a beat up Chevy 30 years old that can barely make it down the street of a brand new Mercury luxury vehicle, either way if you know how to drive they are going to get you to where you need to go. The point of my music is to get there, and I would never claim to have the discipline, chops or talent of my buddy, Rich Cohen, but even so - we both share the same vibe even if I have about 1/100th of his talent, and I love to get together with him to play, even though it has been many years - because we are both there regardless of talent levels. Had a great time this summer with Mr. L who honored me with a visit as well, even though he ended up being the improvised percussionist, because again, it doesn't matter how you get there, as long as you do. With the hand drums, I can keep a rhythm, and am slowly getting to the point where I can pass enough to blend into the circle, but again, I got the spirit working, so that even if I am not playing the complex rhythms that some are, I find that I catch others smiling at me or loooking my way and saying in a kind of unwritten language - hey - you and I are both here and we both get it, and in these things the spirit is contagious, but it can work all by yourself too, it is like comparing group sex to flying solo, either way you are going to get the release and once you get it, how exactly it happens does not really matter all that much. It is not how well structured the vehicle is, as much as having a vehicle of any kind, and in my mind, it is a matter of being in tune - in tune with your inner being, inner soul, and spirit - which has taken a while for me, and I can't always make it happen, but it seems like my batting average has been increasing these days. So I can watch a production like this and even though I can never drum the way Liz Broscoe can, or jam the way Rich can, again - I get it because I know how to get there within my own limited vehicle. That is what is wonderful about music, you don't need to be a virtuos to get there, you just need to grab a drum, guitar, chant a tune, practice a little and just go for breaking on through. I have used this vehicle to motivate and inspire myself, heal myself with my words, tap into my inner soul - my God/ddess voice - and if only we all could do that. In the production she jokingly says maybe some day we can have drums part of the White House Rose Garden. Maybe some day... DURGA - as said in the production Drums Unite Race & Gender Alike. Maybe healing the world can start with just picking one up and going for it.