Happy hour
I performed for Friends of Chamber Music (FOCM), and decided to sing Burt Bacharach and Hal David’s Close to You. It’s deceptive, that song, as so many of Bacharach’s are. It feels easy and simple, but that chart is full of extra beats and hidden bars that are his signature. As I was rehearsing, I noticed the metaphor between human relational closeness and this song. Being close to someone can be deceptively difficult. There are extra bars everywhere, and I don’t mean the drinking kind, although those can soften the blows of some relationships, too. In relationships, just like the song, you thought you were bopping along, then BAM, extra bars and “where am I?”
Happy baby
The mother-daughter relationship is exquisite and complicated. In talking about our relationship and how we could explore our ability to be close emotionally, my daughter and I decided to work on a project together. We had no idea exactly what we wanted to do, but knew that we wanted to spend intentional time together and connect it to exploring human relationships and how they are affected by culture. We were curious about, and still are, how societal norms and agreements shape our ability to relate authentically. Both of us agreed that many of the “norms” we subconsciously or consciously accept seem to limit our ability to be in authentic and compassionate relationships. We wondered if some of these limitations and agreements make us unable to connect with folks with whom we don’t see eye-to-eye. We’re using ourselves and our relationship as guinea pigs in our experiment to explore liberating ourselves from the constraints of societal and relational “norms.” Things like, lack of nuance in conversation, ageism, how so many of us end up in a “right” or “wrong” mindset. How can we listen to each other better?
The happiness project
We began by carving out an hour and a half to brainstorm and made a Venn diagram. What project might each of us want to make? We both love hiking and walking. We could plan a trip. We could plan an overnight backpack. Our first date was remote, so we used a Google Doc and FaceTime. Our hope is to be in person as much as possible, but since she lives about three hours away, that’s not always possible.
Happiness is
Next, we talked about pursuing a project that was not in either of our comfort zones. I won’t go into detail, but we settled on repainting and redecorating our little boathouse on the Columbia River. It hasn’t had a full glowup in about forty years, and while lots about it is still adorable, vintage is an understatement. It needs some sprucing.
What’s it all about Alfie, happiness?
Now, and if you read my blog with any regularity, you know that my mind bounces all over the place. (In the best possible way, in my humble opinion.) While this project was unfolding, I was enjoying an audio book. Lucky for me, the gig where I sang the Bacharach tune was an hour away. So you see, these ideas are connected by Highway 26 on the way to Banks, Oregon. The book, Heart the Lover, by Lily King and read by Rebecca Lowman, brought up two theories of existence, Presentism and Eternalism. Presentism being, in just a few words, the idea that only this moment exists, now it is gone, and the next happens and then it’s gone and so on. Eternalism, the other idea favored by modern physics, posits that everything is woven together; the present is relative to the experiencer. Wow. These concepts. The title of the movie Everything, Everywhere, All at Once suddenly has renewed resonance. As our boathouse project evolves, and I’m sure I’ll continue to share our progress, these two theories of existence will slosh around in my brain.
At this exact moment? I’m thinking Presentism. Now that moment is long gone, and Eternalism seems more the reality. Sometimes if I hold my hand out, I can feel my mom or dad’s hand in mine. Everything, everywhere, all at once. Thoughts from you, dear reader?