such dreams are true

Experiences give way to stories. Reading and hearing stories can frame current and future experiences. It is an interesting relationship.

I grew up with three brothers - two older, one younger. There were times when I liked them and times when I didn't. I was beaten up more than my fair share, but I think I'm basically over that. I am who I am today because of them. . . . . I included that statement because it seems true to the point of being dumb, and I find it hard to appreciate the full weight of comments like that - I'd much rather say something like, I really like the experiences I had because I was the third of four boys.

My family had a dog for a little while - his name was Rocky, and he didn't stay with us too long. Before you go thinking that we murdered him at night or sent him off to a humane shelter to be murdered later, pause and take a deep breath. We decided that he would better enjoy life out in the country, outside where he could run where he wanted and have a little more freedom. So he went and stayed with my grandparents on their farm. He lived quite a while, had a lot of experiences, but I don't think I'd ever say he became wise at all. He just wasn't that bright, and that's not a bad thing I guess, except that I think it made his life a little more difficult - wait, I'll say more adventurous - that sounds better.

Rocky liked to chase the cars and trucks that drove by on the gravel road in front of my grandparents place. I don't know what it really did for him, but this unexplainable passion for chasing cars is probably the least of my worries right now - and I guess I haven't ever done it so I shouldn't be judgmental. It was a game, and I think he got pretty good at it. Chasing cars I guess is fine - it gives a dog a reason to run, much like playing soccer or ultimate frisbee for me - I like to have more motivation to run than just to run (I need to work on that - the aesthetics of just plain running). And barking at cars isn't really that serious, less serious than the chasing I think.

The problems start when the desire is not just to chase vehicles, or even to chase and bark at vehicles. The problems start when the desire is to bite the tires of the vehicles. I'm guessing this must be somehow analogous to hamstringing a large animal - take out the tire and hopefully the vehicle will stop - and I'll just assume that is the desired effect, but maybe the fun lies in trying to bite a fast spinning rubber object on a fast moving large vehicle. Main problem: what happens when one achieves success? Unfortunately for Rocky, here's where some additional foresight might have been helpful. On one such successful occasion, Rocky managed to split his lower jaw in half as his body was whipped around and finally dislodged. He took on the persona of a junk yard dog at this point in his life - half of his teeth sticking out sideways.

I didn't witness this particular event (though I would often go walking with him along the road, and feel helpless as he heard a car approaching in the distance and find a place to hide to spring upon his unknowing prey). It was hard to miss the result - combined with his perpetual interest in smelling skunks and porcupines, Rocky was the very picture of a dog with whom you wouldn't want to spend quality time. Even though it was hard to keep in mind that this was the very same dog that I cuddled with when we were younger, I still loved Rocky. I miss his junkyard-ness sometimes when I visit my grandparents. And I really do think that he enjoyed life on the farm a lot, even if it was painful at times. Life free of pain isn't always better. The opportunity to make mistakes is nice, even though it isn't perfect. I'm not sure whether I prefer adventure or peace more.

I've started wearing glasses more than I used to - I have been doing this because of my eye twitching, but a little bit of web-based self diagnosis (and talking with a couple friends) helped me realize it was probably the caffeine in the tea that was making my eye twitch - or at least that was likely part of it. Right now one of my favorite things to do since I've started wearing glasses is to lean over my tea and blow on it to fog up my glasses. I don't know why - it is nice though. And I've started to drink tea with no caffeine - probably a good choice. I love chamomile. And peppermint. And a bunch of others.

These last few nights I've read the same few pages of a book - each night - because I think they're really great, and they relate two things I've been thinking about as separate things: relations with other people and jobs. Here are two of the quotes (ellipsed slightly with some slight gender pronoun modification).

"This, then, is the moral taught us. . . that what constitutes the dignity of a craft is that it creates a fellowship, that it binds [people] together and forms for them a common language. For there is but one veritable problem--the problem of human relations."

"Happiness! It is useless to seek it elsewhere than in this warmth of human relations. Our sordid interests imprison us within their walls. Only a comrade can grasp us by the hand and haul us free. And these human relations must be created. One must go through an apprenticeship to learn the job. Games and risk are a help here. . . Each must look to the self to teach the meaning of life. It is not something discovered: it is something moulded."

So these quotes go with my Gandhi meditation about being the change I wish to see in the world. I want some sense of security, some sense of adventure, some sense of personal satisfaction/meaning/purpose, and some sense that I'm making the world better. More than anything, trying to understand the personal satisfaction part is made so much easier when I start trying to think about how a job is just one way of being around and developing relationships with others. After reading those selections from Wind, Sand, and Stars by Antoine de Saint-Exupery, I feel really good about choosing parts of my life - it makes it much simpler than trying to figure out how I want to change the world. Because I want to do lots of things. Understanding jobs as a way of developing relationships with other people is good.

And it works really well together with Hermann Hesse's book Siddhartha. If I can work the way Siddhartha does, I'll be happy. And I think that the changing the world thing will be inherent in all the things I want to do. I can delude myself into thinking that at least - right?

This might be the song that would make me content were it sung/played at some important event in my life (funeral, wedding, etc. - as if there is an etc). I've tried to reconstruct the lyrics, especially since lyrics websites don't publish the lyrics because of some copyright stuff - they just tell you to look up the poem, but that doesn't show the lyrics in the order they're sung - so hopefully that justifies my inclusion here - down below is the original poem.


Electrelane The Valleys

I heard it from the valleys
I heard it ringing in the mountains
Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah

I heard it from the valleys
I heard him singing in the mountains
Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah

Robert, when I drowse to-night,
Skirting lawns of sleep to chase
Shifting dreams in mazy light,
Somewhere then I'll see your face
Turning back to bid me follow
Where I wag my arms and hollo,
Over hedges hasting after
Crooked smile and baffling laughter.

We know such dreams are true

Higher Voices
Running tireless, floating, leaping,
Down your web-hung woods and valleys,
Garden glooms and hornbeam alleys,
Where the glowworm stars are peeping,
Till I find you, quiet as stone
On a hill-top all alone,
Staring outward, gravely pondering
Jumbled leagues of hillock-wandering.

You and I have walked together
In the starving winter weather.
We've been glad because we knew
Time's too short and friends are few.
We've been sad because we missed
One whose yellow head was kissed
By the gods, who thought about him
Till they couldn't do without him.

Lower Voices
He's come back, all mirth and glory,
Like the prince in fairy story.
Winter called him far away;
Blossoms bring him home with May.

All
Now he's here again;
Standing in a wood that swings


Now he's here again;
Standing in a wood that swings
To the madrigal he sings.
And I'm sure, as here I stand,
That he shines through every land,
That he sings in every place
Where we're thinking of his face.

While we know such dreams are true!


Here's where the lyrics came from - knowing this makes this song even more special I feel.

A Letter Home
1918
Siegfried Sassoon
1

Here I'm sitting in the gloom
Of my quiet attic room.
France goes rolling all around,
Fledged with forest May has crowned.
And I puff my pipe, calm-hearted,
Thinking how the fighting started,
Wondering when we'll ever end it,
Back to Hell with Kaiser send it,
Gag the noise, pack up and go,
Clockwork soldiers in a row.
I've got better things to do
Than to waste my time on you.

2

Robert, when I drowse to-night,
Skirting lawns of sleep to chase
Shifting dreams in mazy light,
Somewhere then I'll see your face
Turning back to bid me follow
Where I wag my arms and hollo,
Over hedges hasting after
Crooked smile and baffling laughter.
Running tireless, floating, leaping,
Down your web-hung woods and valleys,
Garden glooms and hornbeam alleys,
Where the glowworm stars are peeping,
Till I find you, quiet as stone
On a hill-top all alone,
Staring outward, gravely pondering
Jumbled leagues of hillock-wandering.

3

You and I have walked together
In the starving winter weather.
We've been glad because we knew
Time's too short and friends are few.
We've been sad because we missed
One whose yellow head was kissed
By the gods, who thought about him
Till they couldn't do without him.
Now he's here again; I've seen
Soldier David dressed in green,
Standing in a wood that swings
To the madrigal he sings.
He's come back, all mirth and glory,
Like the prince in fairy story.
Winter called him far away;
Blossoms bring him home with May.

4

Well, I know you'll swear it's true
That you found him decked in blue
Striding up through morning-land
With a cloud on either hand.
Out in Wales, you'll say, he marches,
Arm in arm with oaks and larches;
Hides all night in hilly nooks,
Laughs at dawn in tumbling brooks.
Yet, it's certain, here he teaches
Outpost-schemes to groups of beeches.
And I'm sure, as here I stand,
That he shines through every land,
That he sings in every place
Where we're thinking of his face.

5

Robert, there's a war in France;
Everywhere men bang and blunder,
Sweat and swear and worship Chance,
Creep and blink through cannon thunder.
Rifles crack and bullets flick,
Sing and hum like hornet-swarms.
Bones are smashed and buried quick.
Yet, through stunning battle storms,
All the while I watch the spark
Lit to guide me; for I know
Dreams will triumph, though the dark
Scowls above me where I go.
You can hear me; you can mingle
Radiant folly with my jingle.
War's a joke for me and you
While we know such dreams are true!