old friends die hard

this past weekend, a couple old musician buddies were playing a gig nearby, and asked to
stay at my house rather than make the hour drive back home. these are good friends;
i have spent many nights staying up with them after hours...often all night. like any
good actor will tell you, after 5 hours of performing, you are"up" and very high on the
endorphins released by entertaining the crowd; going right to bed is an impossibility.
i woke up @ 5 AM and found them playing old songs. their guitar and fiddle and
smalltalk had been politely quiet. Once again i was in a past place that felt like home,
so i settled in to sing harmony, and socialize.

i love to sing and they swear they love me singing...i found my confidence has not atrophied, at least with these guys, and we did everything from 'my girl'-'you win again'-'rollin in my sweet baby's arms' to 'brown-eyed girl'-'fire on the mountain'- 'drift away'-' i saw the light'- 'watchtower' and 'knockin' on heaven's door'-' islands in the stream' and 'take it easy'.
whatever one of us began, we all fell into song.
cigarettes and beer are part of their world....and so very not part of mine.
but the joy of singing harmony again, plus the "old-times-sake"
familiar feelings, carried me away until the morning light.

this is the time of day that begins mine, and ends a musician's all-nighter. i began to
see how drunk and out-of-it they both were, as i picked up the many many beercans
and emptied overflowing ashtrays. first one, than the other gave up. one took over
the spare bedroom and the other my couch. immediately i opened the windows wide and let
fresh air clean the stagnant room....

i began to notice how toxic the atmosphere seemed to be in my house.
although i love them both, and the singing was the most fun i'd had in awhile
i was truly ready for them to leave. i cannot imagine a life that is so overwhelmingly
full of self-destructive behavior-- every weekend, year after year after year.
these men have been playing the professional music scene since their 20's. now
they are both early 60's.. both look older, and so much worse for the wear and tear
on their bodies. they are riding in the fast lane towards an early end. i worry
about them both. diabetes/heart problems/ulcers/emphysema, take your pick.

as the morning went on, the uncomfortable energy became more apparent to me.
i realized again how toxic that behavior was for me, and why i stopped hangin' with
the band, and why i left it behind. although i'm neither a drinker or smoker, energy sticks.
this song describes it well: "dim lights, thick smoke, and loud loud music"...
i dont want to participate in that reality, even for a night.
( actually an early evening might be ok, but not the inevitable all-nighter)
it is a sad thing-- as entertainers , they make us feel good, but the true effect on
their own lives is pure poison.
proximity breeds bad habits, and bad energy, which in turn
feed on and encourage eachother. a vicious circle for sure.

i really love these men, but after they drank their coffee and hit the road
( early afternoon) i felt the need to "clean" my whole house. it seemed they left
some foul miasma behind...even the smell of heavy cig smoke was a reminder.
i opened every window and door in the house.
i walked around burning incense, and asking that that energy leave my house.
AND, i was praying for them with every step. although it is the path that they
have chosen, they are well past the "die young-stay pretty" time in their lives.
i will always wish them well: old habits and old friends die hard.
vty, J-lea

small inspiration

Re-post from L/J blog imported 4/22/09:

"Attention is love, what we must give

children, mothers, fatherss, pets,

our friends, the news, the woes of others.

What we want to change, we curse and then

pick up a tool. Bless whatever you can

with eyes and hands and tongue. If you

can't bless it, get ready to make it new "

by Marge Piercy

salutatations and importations

i have been writing a blog a@ Live/journal on general philosophical and temporal thoughts...
things real and not-real; the japanese call it the from the"dreaming world", and the
aboriginal native people of australia view their life purpose as a dreaming of the "songlines" that
hold the world together, in proper order. i am a poet and i love wordplay and writing
in any form, perhaps excepting ojibwe, urdu, korean and textspeak.
and any other indecipherable( to me) forms of communication... i recall many
elements of "newspeak" from "1984" by george orwell. although i am still
living in the past of real mailboxes and physical letters inside, i have willingly
( with xtreme help,and many pushes and shoves towards) entered into the
cyberworld, with its blogging and e-speak and the short n' sweet byts of twitter.
so far, i rate it: doubleplusgood, or i imagine in txtspeak: ++ good.

ay any rate, i have imported the L/j blog into my -switchbacks- blog here at blogger.
certainly, apologies are in order, having already written enough posts with some
overlaps of subjects, huge phrases,and ideas. i am old enough to repeat myself %D and i did.
....still i am a wordy person, sometimes the same ideas come
around into my consciousness in some new context...these i return to again and again.
other than these warnings,i will say that my tangents are usually caught soon enough by the
'inner editor's' watchful eye, and i try to rein them in to brief and interesting. hopefully.

i am looking forward to being linked here, i also write a 'guest' gardening blog
on ilona's garden journal
(http://ilonagarden@blogspot.com/ discussing primarily our good green earth,
growing things and nature's beauty, concrete info-generating, tip sharing and an
all around great forum to dialog about the vast world of gardening experiences.

as far as -switchbacks- as i said in the greetings post, anything goes into this blog
stew pot, cooks til the flavors combine, and becomes the the word soup
that we as writers cook up. here's hoping for a tasty mix!
once more, looking forward to lively dialog and electric discussion
in this brave new world.

vty, J-lea

greetings and salutations

i am a writer, collage artist, organic gardener and farmer,
photographer, and compulsive haiku writer...only a few of the
many"hats "that i have worn in my life, as well as those on my head
right now. i am also a creator of bonsai, and have a lovely, but
unruly collection of little trees. their culture teaches me patience,
and calm thoughtfulness. i live with livestock, 3 dogs, 2 goats and an
old halfblind mule.... i own two horses, morgan and
quarterhorse mares. both are young and beautiful; they
take off full of high spirits, running wild and free across
the pasture like little children at recess. the morgan, Poppaea
looks just like the "Black Beauty" of my childhood reading.
she is as spirited, strong-willed and flighty
as my quarterhorse horse is gentle and laid back.
i am learning to train Rosa, the Q/H; she is three yrs. old
and we are learning together. so far we are both doing well.

i live in a 100 yr. old farmhouse( wood heated ) on pre-civil war homestead
land. it was the home of the local doctor, built in 1906, who was considered
quite"affluent" in our little community. the house is plain and rambling,with
a deep wraparound porch. inside is always dark, and cool- a deliberate design
for georgia summers. as i dont have A/C either, i feel it works pretty well.
it is a typical one-story old southern house, but in the mantles, trim and
elaboratly carved front door there are touches of fine detailing and a
craftsman's work. many souls have been born here, lived and died here;
the house creaks and pops at night. i have lived with these noises for 23
years now and they seem friendly comfortable creaks. what i assumed
might be ghostly are the sounds of an old house, settling in the night.

i have had this house and farm for 23 years now, and i will be
its last resident. i have found my "place", and my life-path within this
small, private, green world; i will tend it and enjoy it for the rest of
my days. it is a quiet peaceful country life. living with livestock, as well as
sacred space for my creative self are only a few of its many rewards.
it's puzzling to my city friends why i live so simply--in such a drafty
old house, always carrying wood in winter, or sitting on the porch on
a hot summer day. they have not lived here, in all its beauty...
i think the modern sealed-off climate-controlled way of life is much
worse; for the most part, folks rarely spend much time outside.
to me, nature's absence in"modern" lifestyles is such an incredible loss.

i write much about my life on the farm, as well as many other
random-yet-connected topics. i have a wide range of interests,
and i hope to find connections and dialog here. this is why i have
called this blog "switchbacks". i am guilty of free-association,
wordiness, and i often zig-zag from topic to topic. like hiking a
mountain trail, i follow the path uphill, which rarely runs
straight up to the top.
thus the switchbacks become necessary; you travel farther
in steps, but you get there easier, and must be strong and
long-winded to make the climb.

and so, this is my opening greeting to the blogworld! i hope
to exchange words with many folks, but i certainly am
able to generate plenty, on my own....

best regards from the switchback Queen...vty, j-lea

inspiration

"But we must try to find our True Conscience, our True Self, the very Center,

for this is the only first-rate choice-making center. Here lies all originality,

talent, truthfulness, courage and cheerfulness.

Here only lies the ability to choose the good and the grand,

the true and the beautiful."   

brenda ueland ( from 'If You Want to Write')

goodbyes

once upon a time 20 years ago, i walked a path with a man who seemed fated for me. we were immediately
drawn to eachother. our chemistry, quick  wit and wordplay were our tender weapons as we found our way
into eachother's hearts. i found a great teacher and lover in this dear man.....we had a child together, a surprise
guided solely by fate and not by reason. this most holy gift brought me such joy, and changes in my life that
i never had expected were possible.  to me the word 'mother' was an enigma.... but children come to teach us that
our own childhood assumptions arent always true;  that pure, unconditional love is possible in life.
our son has grown into an impressive young man, hardworking, loving and giving; he is a musician
and songwriter, as well. he has the biggest heart, and quick intelligent wit just like his father.

i honor our long and loving relationship with this writing. we went our separate ways years ago.
when we parted, he sent me this poem, a beautiful expression of how loving, and life, and leaving intertwine.
yesterday was his 71st birthday, and  illness is slowly taking him away, i felt strongly that i should find this
poem and send it back to him.  he has parkinson's disease, and it is hard to see
him struggling with life. i still see him laughing with me out beside alison lake....
our dance is coming to an end.
i can only wish him happiness and love all around him now, and this poem is my  'letting go'  for him.

-In Blackwater Woods-

Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars

of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,

the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders

of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name, is

nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned

in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black rivers of loss
whose other side

is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world

you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.

i am sorry i dont know author's name, but this is attributed to him or her... with deep gratitude.

God Bless, Ray...

vty, Jo

peace with the cyberworld

i have been writing of this issue in my posts here also as a guest  on my friend's
garden blog... i am of a "certain age"....there are certainly many  of us left who mistrust
new and unfamiliar ways of  e-communication. i have already made the leap
into cybernetworking, but would still prefer walking to the mailbox for a "real" letter....
having said this, i have gained some peace of mind.  the true issue
is not an issue at all, when it comes to human need to communicate.

posted from http://ilonagarden.blogspot.com ...

my latest few posts here have clarified for me this one true thing: All is Interconnected/
We are All One...on the "Web" or engaged in the web of life, the many different means of
communication all work to serve the same human needs.
my wrestling with these new e-forms of contact is part of what history would say
defines 'my generation' ( the Who song- did you think of it right off? )
we were mostly hippies, sometimes back-to-the-landers, and luddites many years ago.
some of us just stayed there...
we are the lucky ones, in these tough times IMHO. woo-hoo i have just txtspoken.

my main point here is that be it birdsong or twitter, we have a need for communication
as well as a connection to all living things. we are human, and must be interconnected;
we are simply made so!
to sit and ponder a nonexistent difference is precious time
better spent out in the yard....

vty,   johanna-lea