What is the Upper Hand?

Okay so I am obsessed with this book right now. I highly recommend it.

The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran. Gibran writes as if he is a prophet about to leave a people he lived with for 12 years. They ask him for some last words on important subjects (like love, reason and knowledge, pain, self-knowledge, time, good and evil, pleasure, religion, death and so much more). He responds with a poem for each topic. It is great stuff.


The following are excerpts from his poem on Love. Afterwards, I'll give you my two cents on the matter. You are so welcome.

Kahlil Gibran on Love  

When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
...
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. 
Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth. 

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
...
But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.

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So What is the Upper Hand?

As I read this poem, it made me think about the struggle for "the upper hand" in relationships. Any type of relationship. There's too often a fight for that ambiguous "upper hand." What the heck is the upper hand?? It seems like it changes all the time, especially in 'romantic' relationships.

Is "having the upper hand" equivalent to maintaining emotional distance? Is it saving face? Is it being less invested than the other person, but still getting what you want out of it?

Gibran's poem reminds me of this "upper hand" phenomenon when he suggests that love "threshes you to make you naked." Nakedness is vulnerability. Love or anything approaching it will make you feel vulnerable anyway. On an internal level, it will thresh you naked whether you like it or not. 

I think we can take the upper hand by voluntarily offering up our vulnerability.
  
When we offer up our vulnerability, we are completely honest with ourselves and others. We live life openly, without cloaked intentions weighing us down. 

Results? We are liberated. We become less concerned with controlling relationships and it's more likely that we'll learn and grow from them. We will get to laugh all our laughter and weep all our tears. We receive a fuller life. Sounds like the upper hand to me.

What if you died tomorrow?

What if you died tomorrow?
What if your most recent exchange with that person was your last interaction with them ever?
Did you act according to what you stand for?
It's not too late to fix things today.
Tomorrow's the deadline.

The Social Chameleon/Bubblewrap Phenomenon

Social chameleons scare the crap out of me.
Who are they really? Is there any substance in their cells?

By nature, they're reactive. Having conversations with them is validating because their responsiveness makes you feel heard. But what do they think? What's going on in their mind? Something meaningful, or just a series of reactions leading to adjustments in behavior?

Social chameleons are like bubblewrap. Everybody loves bubblewrap. Bubblewrap is a thrill; it responds to your touch, and interactions with it often leave you feeling satisfied for the moment. I think we can all agree that bubblewrap is a dang good time.

But when it comes down to it, bubblewrap is only filled with air.
And you reach a point where you realize that interactions with bubblewrap aren't an exchange.
You can give, but all that will come of it is a few stocatto pops and then, the tiniest little poof of useless air discharges into the wide expanse of the world.

Happy Birthday Kurt Cobain

Happy Birthday Kurt Cobain.

So I wanted to write something about Kurt Cobain in honor of what would have been his 46th birthday.  But I can't really wrap words around what he was.

So I'm just going to tell you why I like his music, share some words that came out of his mouth, and show you a video. Rest in peace, Kurt Cobain. You're a legend.

I love Kurt Cobain's song-writing. Melody was his top priority. He always reminded his band mates that it was melody first, lyrics second. He liked creating simple melodies that had a childlike accessibility. Yes, a lot of his works have a catchy pop-rock element, but they're ultimately so gritty and raw. I love how one moment Kurt will whisper an enticing throaty melody with Dave Grohl keeping a trusty straight beat, and the next moment, the world pauses for Kurt to scream a beautiful haunting refrain as Grohl comes back in with a thunderous drum fill, propelling the music forward from there on, full throttle. Oh, and feedback. Their glorious feedback.

I love music of Cobain's that explores controversial social themes. He doesn't necessarily offer answers, but he explores. One example is his song "Polly," which is reminiscent of a newspaper article Cobain read about a 14-year-old girl who used her wits to escape the man who abducted, tortured and raped her. Cobain wrote this song from the point of view of the torturer. It's disconcerting and fascinating. 

I love that Cobain's music embodies who he was and what he stood for. I'm not saying that I worship him or that I agree with everything he stood for. I just love that his music is reflective of himself, society and what he thought about it all. 

It can be argued that the way that Cobain wrote his music was more reflective of his worldview than his actual lyrics were.

Cobain wrote the lyrics to many of his songs only minutes before recording them. As a result, a good amount of his lyrics were nonsensical with fragmented messages nestled within. He was unapologetic about songs written in this way.  However, some songs, such as those found on In Utero were "more focused" and "almost based on themes," as Cobain explained it. 

Cobain commented on his lyric-writing in general: "I'm such a nihilistic jerk half the time and other times I'm so vulnerable and sincere. [The songs are] like a mixture of both of them. That's how most people my age are."

Dissonance is a constant in real life. I just love that Cobain noticed dissonance in his own life and in the world, bottled some of it up, and poured it into his music.


"Punk is musical freedom. It's saying, doing and playing what you want. In Webster's terms, 'nirvana' means freedom from pain, suffering and the external world, and that's pretty close to my definition of punk rock."

“There's good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too fu**ing sad.” 

“Thank you for the tragedy. I need it for my art.” 

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If you want a glimpse into Kurt Cobain's soul, see the look in his eyes at 4:15. But watch the whole thing.

Valentine's Day: it's gonna happen.

Yes, it's stupid to arbitrarily pick a day to celebrate love every year. But it's not the people who are hopelessly infatuated with this holiday who I pity the most.

What's more pitiful is when people are actively anti-Valentine's Day. Just let the lovebirds relish in all things cheesy and cliche for a day. It's gonna happen. You don't have to take part in it. You also don't have to condemn their practices with your loudest kindergarten voice. People might think you have a bitter taste in your mouth.

The Unhealthy Music Addiction: INDIE

INDIE

Do it yourself. Be independent, be diverse, be an outsider.
Explore. Explore a universe, explore a foreign perspective, explore endless tunnels of sound.
Simplify. Be an understated wire of melody woven with texture and understanding.
Evolve. Expand, innovate, integrate, refine.
Be sensitivity and introspection today; be silliness and satire tomorrow.
Be a social commentary on consumer culture, gender roles, short-lived romances, the theatrical nature of 'realism' today. Be a social commentary on social commentary.
Step on a piece of trash, sculpt an elephant out of it. Spend 3 days straight discovering a band. Write an extensive narrative about how subtle his smirk is in blind company. Embrace irony. Re-live a single memory one thousand times. Scribble on used notebook pages to the rhythm of a favorite song. Go outside just to let your skin and mind breathe. Paint abstractions on paper bags. Paint your body. Paint your mind. 
Transcend the world. Create a niche. Create a world.
Be music for the sake of being music.


Some favorites:


Indie Rock: The Smiths, Kings of Leon, The Strokes, Tegan and Sarah, AWOLNATION, Guster, Gotye, The White Stripes, Radiohead, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Beast, Jet, Muse,Vampire Weekend, Dinosaur Jr, Imagine Dragons,The Velvet Underground, Benjamin Gibbard, The Black Keys, Cage the Elephant, Spoon, Beck, Ryan Adams, Of Monsters and Men, The Heavy, The Temper Trap, The Connells, The Killers, The Kooks, Fun, The Format, Flight of the Concords, The Gorillaz, The Shins, Shiny Toy Guns, Eels, Wilco, The Raconteurs, Metric, Lana Del Ray, Foster the People, Franz Ferdinand, Arctic Monkeys, Duffy, Alabama Shakes, Fiona Apple, Cowboy Mouth, Paper Tongues, Carolina Liar, Jack White, Rooney, Phantom Planet, Thriving Ivory, Dios Malos, Sondre Lerche, Jack's Mannequin, Hot Hot Heat, Walk off the Earth, The Devil Whale, The Hush Sound, Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeroes

Indie Pop: Passion Pit, Lady Danville, Of Montreal, Sufjan Stevens, Peter Bjorn and John, Dillon, Kimbra, Regina Spektor, The Black Ghosts, Crystal Castles, The New Pornographers, Coconut Records, Mika, Florence and the Machine, Kate Nash, Lily Allen, Imogen Heap, Roison Murphy, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Santigold, Matt and Kim, Lennon and Maisy, Feist, MGMT, Yael Naim, La Roux, Lenka, Lissie, Bloc Party, The Submarines, Charlotte Sometimes, A Fine Frenzy, Postal Service, Operator Please, The Ting Tings, Mates of State, Empire of the Sun, M.I.A., Death Cab for Cutie,Ingrid Michaelson, The Kills


Indie Folk: Bon Iver, Nickel Creek, Modest Mouse, Indigo Girls, Mumford & Sons, Ani DiFranco, Peter Paul & Mary, Grace Potter & the Nocturnals, Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeroes, Alison Krauss, The Open Sea, The Cranberries, The Lovin' Spoonful, Jeff Buckley, Carbon Leaf, Good Old War, Paolo Nutini, Damien Rice, Iron & Wine, Jakob Dylan, Brett Dennen, Matt Costa

The Unhealthy Music Addiction: ROCK

OLD TIME ROCK 'N ROLL

The cool uncle. Fun and sometimes spontaneous, yet restrained. Hinting at unmentionables, letting them glimpse the light. Stylized, a performer. Conscious of its audience, very direct in its simple messages. A dash of innocence and naivety. Catchy, accessible, addicting melodies.


CLASSIC ROCK

The erratic grandfather. By nature, wandering. Creating worlds as he goes. Wise and insane from a life of living. An earthy and mellow ruggedness very often excited by the wildness of life. The wildness of desperation, the wildness of women, the wildness of life's peaks and troughs.



ALT/HARD ROCK

Classic rock's love child, upset with its tumultuous existence. An outlet, a rebellion, a blooming, haunting in all its irony and rage and beauty. A vendetta against all things still, all things simple, all things complex. A confused emotion, exacerbated and beautified in its expression. A pure feeling, a poem by a child, hardened from the unforgiving sun. It's beauty, with thick, rough skin.

GRUNGE

The strange cousin. Awkward at parties, full of idiosyncrasies and conspiracy theories. Poetic and abrasive. Paranoid geniuses, flower children of the streets. Apathetic one moment, angsty the next. Lead a seemingly disconnected life every hour except the hour that they perform, when everything in the world aligns chaotically. Revolutionary. Invitational. Join the ranks of the misfit toys.

PUNK ROCK

Grunge's brother. Loud. Less thoughtful, a deliberate doer. Bored with subtleties, speaks his mind. Brutally honest, sometimes crass, always catchy. A heart pounding, sewn to the thunderous beat of life itself. A hit at parties, the class clown. Messy and to-the-point.





ALT/POP ROCK

The older brother. Has a bit of his brothers' quirk, but is generally much more subdued. Down to earth, melodic, sensible. Pretty far removed from the honest, raw, rugged rock of ages long gone. Stays within bounds, but finds a niche and rocks it. Well-liked. You can take him home to Mom.



Disclaimer: This is definitely not an attempt to give extensive, complete lists, or to eternally compartmentalize bands into one distinct genre. It's more of a gist-giving kind of thing.

Some of my favorites from each genre:

• Old Time Rock 'N Roll:  Elvis Presley, James Brown, Little Richard, Chuck Berry, The Everly Brothers, Herman's Hermits, Buddy Holly, Johnny Cash, The Beatles (yes, some bands fall under multiple categories, depending on the time period and amount of drugs they were doing)
• Classic Rock: Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, The Doors, Pink Floyd, Heart, Joan Jett & the Blackhearts, Steve Miller Band, Aerosmith, Van Halen, Guns 'N Roses, Queen, Jefferson Airplane, Cheap Trick, Boston, Ramones, Kiss, AC/DC, The Clash, Def Leppard, Eric Clapton, Foreigner, Bob Dylan, Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, Jimi Hendrix, John Mellencamp, Kansas, Journey, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Motley Crue, Peter Frampton, Vixen, The Who
• Alt/Hard Rock: Rage Against the Machine, Dead Sara, Foo Fighters, Ra, Breaking Benjamin, Flyleaf, Disturbed, Quiet Riot, Sick Puppies, Dragonforce, Linkin Park, Metallica, Slipknot, Skillet
• Grunge: Nirvana, Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, Stone Temple Pilots, R.E.M, The Pixies, Garbage, Butthole Surfers, Alice in Chains
• Punk Rock: The Offspring, Beastie Boys, Green Day, Blink-182, Sum 41, Fountains of Wayne, Bowling for Soup, Simple Plan, The Academy Is..., Forever the Sickest Kids, Cute is What We Aim For, Good Charlotte, My Chemical Romance
• Alt/Pop Rock: Third Eye Blind, Cake, Guster, Jet, Sugar Ray, Paper Tongues, Phantom Planet, No Doubt, Hootie & the Blowfish, Stroke 9, Semisonic, Sister Hazel, Gin Blossoms, Ingram Hill, Sugarcult, The Fray, Augustana, Spin Doctors, James Blunt, Train, The Wallflowers, Vertical Horizon, LFO, Switchfoot, Eve 6, Maroon 5, Matchbox 20, Jimmy Eat World, Jack's Mannequin, Paramore, Weezer, 3 Doors Down, Five for Fighting

White Oleander

White Oleander is a universe-expanding, skin-thickening book. It is rough and empowering. It grants readers a connection to people, both ordinary and extraordinary, with all their frailties, their flaws, their beauty, their games, their will. It is poetically realistic.  Some of my favorite quotes from it:

• Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it. The way it tunnels into you and allows your soul room to grow.
•  That beautiful girl, she was a universe, bearer of the words that rang like gongs, that tumbled like flutes made of human bones.
•  I realized I was exactly where she wanted me, safely unhappy…a prisoner…brewing into an artist, someone she might want to know someday. When all I wanted was for her to see me now.
• This was an artist’s stare, attentive to detail, taking in the truth without preconceptions.
• That was the thing about words, they were clear and specific—chair, eye, stone—but when you talked about feelings, words were too stiff, they were this and not that, they couldn't include all the meanings. In defining, they always left something out.
•             Life should always be like this…Like lingering over a good meal. Unfortunately, most people have no talent for it…As soon as they start one thing, they want it to be over with, so they can start on the next.
• The mistrust of heights is the mistrust of self, you don’t know whether you’re going to jump.
•  His guitar bore his longing up into the darkness like sparks, a music profound in its objectless desire, beautiful beyond solace or solution.
•  A man I wanted like falling.
• Feel the music, Astrid. Don't look at me. Close your eyes and be inside it.
• How could anybody confuse truth with beauty, I thought as I looked at him. Truth came with sunken eyes, bony or scarred, decayed. Its teeth were bad, its hair gray and unkempt. While beauty was empty as a gourd, vain as a parakeet. But it had power. It smelled of musk and oranges and made you close your eyes in a prayer.
• The artist is the phoenix who burns to emerge.
• The mind was so thin, barely a spiderweb, with all its fine thoughts, aspirations, and beliefs in its own importance. Watch how easily it unravels, evaporates under the first lick of pain.
• I liked Berlin. The city and I understood each other. I liked that they left the bombed-out hulk of the Kaiser Wilhelm church as a monument to loss. Nobody forgot anything here. In Berlin, you had to wrestle with the past, you had to build on the ruins, inside them. It wasn’t like America, where we scraped the earth clean, thinking we could start again every time. We hadn’t learned yet, that there was no such thing as an empty canvas.
• We were the wild children with all the talent.