Problem People

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I had a problem yesterday, then I made it go away.

Someone with whom I sometimes work has me begging for things. He might not even know he's does this, but what's his is his and don't touch without permission. The fact that we work together would seem to give him incentive to cooperate, but he's suspicious and that gets in the way of so many things.

Yesterday, I needed something from him. A simple thing. He could easily share it. Situations reversed, I'd have sent it maybe even before he asked, but situations aren't reversed, so I asked — politely, carefully — if I could trouble him for it. Phrasing things, revising my thoughts so as not to offend, I realized I was begging. Ugh.

Neither needing the thing nor the begging was the problem. My problem was that I was growing angry. I wanted to complain about him to someone else. I wanted to tell him to go fuck off. My problem was choosing to make myself angry wishing things were other than they are with this guy.

That's a problem because I still need this one thing and need to work with him from time to time. If I go into each interaction angry and expecting a fight, I'm going to be a very unhappy boy.

Yesterday, anger and frustration welling up as I begged, I stopped and asked, "what other choices do I have?" Before anyone thinks I'm enlightened, what I yelled was, "what other fucking choice do I have working with this motherfucker?!" Still, that question served me well. What other choices did I have?

That's easy: I could let my anger go.

I hit send on the message, understanding that he's a difficult partner but I'm smart enough to work around that. A day later I still haven't heard back from him. I'll find another way to do the work and move him that much further out of my life, move myself that much farther from my problems.

Again, lest I seem enlightened, I wrote the line above thinking "move that motherfucker that much further out of my life." Luckily, motherfucker turns out to be one of my happy words. It's no problem.

"From This Place" by Pat Metheny

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I read Metheny's thoughts and then listened carefully. Seems a good song for our times.

Lyric by Alison Riley

From this place I cannot see
hardest dark
beneath rising seas.
From this place I don't believe
all my hopes
my sweet relief.
From here I say I cannot breathe.
Fear and hurt
again we bleed.
Unsafe, unsound, unclear to me
don't know how to be.
From this place I must proceed
trust in love, truth be my lead.
From here I will stand with thee
until hearts are truly free.

Pat Metheny writes:

On November 8, 2016, our country shamefully revealed a side of itself to the world that had mostly been hidden from view in its recent history. I wrote the piece From This Place in the early morning hours the next day as the results of the election became sadly evident.

There was only one musician who I could imagine singing it, and that was Meshell Ndegocello, one of the great artists of our time. With words by her partner Alison Riley, they captured exactly the feeling of that tragic moment while reaffirming the hope of better days ahead.

That said, as I approach 50 years of recording and performing, while looking back on all the music I have been involved in, I am hard-pressed to immediately recall in retrospect the political climate of the time that most of it was made in. And if I can, the memories of those particulars seem almost inconsequential to the music itself.

The currency that I have been given the privilege to trade in over these years put its primary value on the timeless and transcendent nature of what makes music music.

Music continually reveals itself to be ultimately and somewhat oddly impervious to the ups and downs of the transient details that may even have played a part in its birth. Music retains its nature and spirit even as the culture that forms it fades away, much like the dirt that creates the pressure around a diamond is long forgotten as the diamond shines on.

– Pat Metheny

Command & Control

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Earlier, I described setting up default templates so my documents look just so. Shortly after posting that, the family and I began straightening, cleaning, and organizing the basement. I also cleaned my workshop and rehung the door to my nook so it doesn't drag on the carpet.

We were very productive, but there's more to it than just that.

I bet we're not the only ones organizing, raking the yard, putting books in order, cleaning hard drives, and cleaning the refrigerator shelves. Sure, we need something to do and have put these tasks off, but we also need some command and control in times such as this. Cleaning the basement, setting up a new word processing template, whatever we're doing, we do to feel something other than helpless.

In this morning's pages I wrote that the worst part of this whole thing is the uncertainty and the certainty. The virus is invisible to the naked eye. We can't know if we just breathed it in or if we carried it to someone we love. That's straight out of a horror movie1. The monster is out there, but we can't see it, don't know how to fight it, and have no idea when it will go away. The uncertainty is worse than awful but isn't all with which we must cope.

There is also the certainty, despite what the D.C. maggot says, that this will get worse and many people will die. We are certain this isn't a hoax. It isn't happening somewhere else. It won't be painless. We're certain of all that.

The one-two punch of certainty and uncertainty, well, it's crushing. We can wallow in that or go clean the basement.

I have this much command and control of the situation: the basement looks great and I smile walking through it. Not much, but maybe enough to help get through today and into the next. If so, well, that's just fine. It's enough.

What are you cleaning today?

1 No, I'm not looking forward to the COVID-19 movies that Hollywood will produce. Like movies about September 11, I'll be sure to avoid them.