Life is Grand, Love is Real, and Beauty is Everywhere

I wrote a little insurrection that moves in the direction that Beauty is beauty in spite of perfection See the crosses at the roadside See the thornbush ablaze in bloom -Roger Clyne & the Peacemakers, "Better Beautiful than Perfect" I guess it's ironic that I'm going start this with a story from a Local H show. Back in May of 2004 I went to see the H in Dundee, IL at a place called the Clearwater Theatre. In March of this year I went to see the H again at the Clearwater in Dundee. I think it was the eighth Local H show I've seen in the last four years. At some point, though, that night a couple weeks ago I stopped for a moment and thought, "It's amazing how much things have changed in the last four years." Materially, I guess, things hadn't changed all that much, but I'm living in a different world. 2004 was the beginning of a new era. That night at the Local H show I was within a week of my 23rd birthday and four months away from finally going to WIU to finish my B.A. with the expectation that I'd be going on to Seminary shortly thereafter. I'd been working at a job for a little over a year that I would return to over breaks when I was at school and finally for a year after I graduated. In March of '08 I was about a year removed from my decision not to go to Seminary due to a newfound lack of belief in god. A guy I had known since the time I started working at that job had been let go that very day and I was two weeks from losing my own job. That Local H show in March was, in many ways, the end of an era the same way the one in 2004 was the beginning of one. I tend to go with the Mayan idea, however, that there is no such thing as an end that doesn't lead to another beginning. The end, I guess, can be terrifying, which is why the term "apocalyptic" is generally considered a bad thing. But in my case the ends and the beginnings can't really be defined by really big, global changes. That's why I need to take the time to say, "Seyla," and allow a breath, a time of quiet reflection between passages in my life. For those who take the time to join me, I hope my reflection will be worthwhile. I find that I learn best when I sit down and allow myself to speak and listen to what I've said. So this is entirely self-indulgent, but hey, this is my space. Oh, and sharing is good, too. I like dialogue a lot more than monologue... Anyway, that line that I started this post with, "Beauty is beauty in spite of perfection," is, in my humble opinion, one of the simplest yet most profound lines I've ever heard in a song. Somehow, tonight, I've decided it belongs alongside this lyric: The harder I fight the stronger it's a comin' I wipe the tears from my eyes and keep on strummin' Baby, I ain't runnin' away I'm tryin' to find you somethin' better inside me --RCPM, "Your Name on a Grain of Rice" Sometime back in high school I made the mistake of deciding to live my life a certain way. It seemed completely sensible at the time and a good encouragement to get out and try new things, but it was impossible. I made it my goal to live a life with absolutely no regrets. See, at the time I was afraid of, like, everything. "No regrets" was code for, "Take chances, make memories, don't grow old thinking of all the things I wish I had done." If only I'd taken that second, slightly less pithy statement as my life goal. Things would have gone much more smoothly. "No regrets" looks good on paper, I guess, but it has a built-in degree of impossibility. Namely, it's impossible to live with no regrets while living a full, dynamic life. Looking back, I realize that a lot the things I look back on with something less than pride now are the things I was most proud of at the time. I remember something with a twinge of regret, think that it would have been awesome if I had done something completely differently, then realize that I was doing what I thought was right at the time. Moreover, some of those things I wish I hadn't done made me who I am now. I like who I am now. A lot of those regrets, probably not surprisingly, revolve around my altered religious views. I'm occasionally reminded of things I could have done at various points in the past had I not been afraid of the vengeance of a wrathful god and/or judgmental church community. Then I realize that if I could travel back and speak to the me at whom I am shaking my head, that past me would be horrified to find out what I have become. I'm sure that if I make it another ten years, I'll find similar issues with the me who is writing this right now. So "no regrets" is out as a life motto. It's driven by an expectation of a logistically impossible perfection in life. That's where the line, "Beauty is beauty in spite of perfection," resonates deep within me. I can't help but think I'll never find a better way to describe my notion of beauty than to keep repeating it. And I can't come up with a better way to replace, "Live a life of no regrets," than to say, "Live a beautiful life." Life isn't perfect. Life isn't fair. Life can, however, be beautiful. I think I've finally figured out that life becomes beautiful in the moments when I decide it's beautiful. I've come to conclude that I will fail more than I succeed. I'll never be where I want to be, especially if I'm doing everything right and always looking for something better inside me. What happens to me is largely outside of my control. All I can control is how I deal with the bad and take advantage of the good. That crisis of faith I experienced was a key component of a choice I made last week and the lessons I've learned. It's something I know I'll go back to many times while I write the next few entries. In an attempt to create understanding, I'll start with this brief thought. The god I grew up with was an all-consuming character. Complete surrender was required in order to be considered a truly godly individual. This is weird for me to say right now, as the new part of me pretty much assumes this is a, "Duh," concept, but the still-indoctrinated part of my mind is screaming at me for disagreeing with it. Either way, complete surrender to god, especially the god found in fundamentalist/evangelical Christian culture is a tremendously bad thing. That complete surrender to god gives two routes to happiness. First, do what god tells you to do. Second, hope that god is nice enough to grant you happiness for doing what you're supposed to do. To choose to be happy was an unacceptable act of rebellion. There's no room for finding a beautiful life in a mental space where there's no room for anything but god. I know there are plenty of people out there who will argue with that, but I can't really explain it yet. The explanation will come later (really) but for right now I have to leave it at that. Instead, I'll go with the chorus of "Better Beautiful than Perfect:" We can hear the bossa nova We can sway the night away The steps to the dance are Best left up to chance Better beautiful than perfect anyway And while the moon wanes and waxes Surely death and taxes are lurking out there Life is grand, Love is real, and Beauty is everywhere Living a beautiful life comes from seeing where the dance takes you. It also comes from recognizing the moments of beauty and allowing them to overtake the crap. Bad times don't cease to exist, but we can make a choice to avoid focusing on them, avoid allowing them to overtake every waking hour. That's why I'm starting with this lesson. It's also why I'm holding it in contrast to the Christianity and the god from which I've broken away. I don't think I'll ever be able to truly leave that Christianity behind, as I tried as hard as I could to live it out and let it define my life for more than two decades. I can't help but think as I write this that I'm putting together a Bible study or one of those inspirational Christian Living books I used to sell, but replacing the scripture with the gospel according to Roger Clyne. Really, it's not, I swear. I'm not attempting to live my life according to the dictates of the Prophet Clyne, nor am I trying keep the Jesus altar but put a new set of teachings on top of it. I just like to think I know wisdom when I hear it. I also find that music allows me to focus my thoughts and really allows me to create a unified thought structure that's hopefully more universal than I'll be able to create on my own. Some of the thoughts that I will record over the course of the project came directly from the music, but didn't. Of those, some were rattling around waiting for the perfect words to give them voice while others have been in my mind for a long time and I'm simply finding the lyrics that best help me say them. More to the point, though, I think you have to have attended the sort of Bible study of which I speak to understand exactly why this isn't one. I'm not seeking the immutable Word of Clyne in an attempt to make sure I better live my life according to its dictates. Although I have no doubt that many of the things I say about the songs will be in agreement with what was intended, I really don't care if it turns out I'm completely in contradiction to the band on what their songs mean. This is about what the songs mean to me, why they're important to me. Should someone out there go and listen to the same songs and decide that I'm completely wrong, that's great. Let's sit down over a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black or Jose Cuervo (whether in reality or metaphorically) and talk about the things in life that matter. Besides, there's nothing like a big frickin' advertisement for one of the greatest bands I've ever heard. Roger Clyne has been making my life better ever since the Refreshments released Fizzy, Fuzzy, Big and Buzzy back when I was in high school. So think of this as a hat tipping thank you as much as anything. The Refreshments and the Peacemakers have made the world a little more beautiful, even if they can't make it any more perfect. But hey, perfection isn't the goal, anyway...