Loving Giving

A state of the union address, from the state of my own head.  How am I doing?  I think I'm doing very well right now.  I have been compliant with my treatment and have stopped drinking.  I'm in an intensive outpatient program and have been attending group therapy sessions.  I'm being creative, making art and writing again.  I'm a pleasure to be around.  (tee hee) I'm making progress on my yards and garden.  I'm helping out with the chores around the house.  I'm cleaning up and organizing the office and garage.  I'm blogging again.

I'm not dwelling on my mistakes.  I'm not dwelling on my expectations, even when they aren't met.  I'm just doing what I know how to do, little bits at a time, so I don't get too overwhelmed.  And it's working.

Whaddaya know.

Is this how it's supposed to go?  What say you, universe?  Is the secret not so secret?  Am I living at the speed and timbre that all things living do it?  Is there really a thing called control?  Or is it another ghost we created in our attempts to be all of it at once? 

My blog is for me and those who know me, primarily.  Others may stumble upon it and maybe even enjoy it.  But I am not going to actively pursue methods of marketing it.  Because it drags me away from the writing, it drags me away from my well-being.  It drags me away from what I'm really trying to do. 

I'm trying to find universal truths here, however I can.  I'm only one tiny spec of perspective in this huge dust cloud of a galaxy in some larger entity's vacuum cleaner.  So I'm gonna play as best I can.  I'm gonna practice and try to give birth to a symphony, and may it be played and lead to more symphonies, if not a whole school of music.  May these songs be sung and played and manipulated and regurgitated like nutritious syrup and enlightened kibble.  May the violins streak naked sonnets across soft meadows of heather and jasmine.  Strings, yes.  Reeds, yes.  All of them, holding hands and playfully galloping over rolling hills.  Maybe even Julie Andrews would be there, before the nodule.

I hope to have more regular attempts writing down some of these endeavors.  I'd like to write a musical.  I'd like to write a song.  I have already written lyrics.  Here they are, to be set to music someday, of course:

“give love”

Love like a painted nickel

Love like a whirling game

Love like it’s meant for nothing

Love by its every name

Give all that you can muster

Give like the southward wind

Give like it doesn’t need you

Give all that you can send

Love one and love another

Love it all and once again

Love like fathers and their daughters

Love whether or not sane

Give to all that fight to matter

Give to all there is no greed

Give to each and every lover

Give until there is no need

Give your love to friend and neighbor

Give your love to everyone

Give your love to foe or stranger

Giving love is never done

I like that song.  I kinda have a way of singing it to myself, but I'm not sharing yet.  I think I might try and write a melody with my nephew this summer.  He's quite musical and creative.

Thanks for reading.