Sometimes We Just Need to be Reminded

Here's a poem I wrote back in 2006. Feel free to critique it, just enjoy it, hate it, whatever seems to fit your mood today.


Sometimes We Just Need to be Reminded

Sometimes we just need to be reminded.
Sometimes we just need to stop the train,
get off, and look
at the sunflowers alongside the tracks.
Sometimes we just need to breathe. Deeply. In.
Out. Abdomen soft.
Sometimes we just need to feel the chair under
our backside.
Sometimes we just need to look at our partner,
really see him or her again.
Sometimes we just need to be reminded.

-- Mike Banys, 2006

Places We Can't Go

Okay, so it's not a regular post, but it's all I've got to offer right now. Here are the lyrics for a song I'm working on, feel free to absolutely demolish them.


The seasons change
And Spring finds its way
To San Francisco
The light laid down
Now clings to Bay and building
A most beautiful back drop
But it could never be enough for me

I whisper to the winds
“Darling, I am lost”
Lost in thoughts
Of what could have been
What might have been
What never was
If it ever was
Memories of words we claimed

“Let’s step out
Let’s take a chance.”
But there’s no chance
Just patterns that remain
Patterns we can’t change
We can’t change

So we find our own roads
Turn our backs on places we can’t go
Follow what we’ve come to know;
There’s nothing more
To hold us back
No more thoughts to what we lack
I’ll never be the one to say
Love goes easily
I’ll never be the one

Seasons change
Summer’s just around the bend
And I’m running
On my own again
And I am running
to Chicago

The Chronicles of Ryan's Roommate Part I

Ryan looked in the fridge. His heart sank with the temperature as it hit his face. It had happened again. This would require some brooding. He flopped down on the couch and tried to put things in perspective. He tried to see the truth of the matter. He tried not to be angry.

But He Was Betrayed.

Betrayed by the closest person to him. Their bedrooms were a scarce 10 feet apart. How could he do this! Why couldn't he be considerate! It was a matter important to life or death.

But he forgave his friend. Their friendship could transcend this. He also knew what his friend was dealing with at the time. He knew of the crazy spells, and the rough influence of the female.

After all, it was only another frozen burrito.

Did you enjoy my last post? I thought it was clever!
And despite the fact that Ryan tells me that it is blog-terrorism to threaten so, I will begin to fill this blog with similar dribble until some more discussion is kindled!

David

Death of a Violist

"A string quartet is made up of four people; a good violinist, a bad violinist, an ex-violinist, and someone who hates violinists."

And thus, a viola player dies. He spent his life in an unknown clef, playing unheard parts on an unrecognized instrument. From the outside world, he received complete anonymity. From the music world, he received ridicule.

And yet, somehow, he made it to heaven! All those years of practice, frustration, perseverance had paid off. As he went to join the orchestra in the sky, God looked at him and said "Viola, huh? That's like a large violin, right?"

I don't know what I think anymore.

It's a blessing to live in a nation that supports religious freedom; in a nation that has a seperation of Church and State. Does it mean, however, that one area is blind to the other?

My head is logical. In my head, I love all people, no matter what. People need, deserve, love and acceptance. But my heart feels what it feels. To modify those feelings, by reason, with my head, is only lying to myself.

My head says that homosexuals are people. My head says I should love all people. It says I should accept them, associate and become friends, and support them. And these things I do.

My heart says that marriage is between a man and woman. I have very deep feelings about this with little to no logical reasoning to defend my position.

Do I think that homosexual couples should have the same legal rights as heterosexual couples? Yes. Tax breaks? Yes. Include each other on their health insurance? Yes. Would I consider a couple who commits to this union commited to each other? Yes. Do I want it called a marriage? No.

It comes down to a definition. What is marriage. Do I think that homosexual couples have as strong a bond as a heterosexual couple? I'm not sure. I have a gay friend I used to work with who has been with his significant other for over twenty years. That's a hell of a commitment. Is it the same as my commitment to my wife for the last five? Or the same as my parents for the last thirty? My head says yes. My heart says no.

Of course, i'm dealing with a perfect world, because it is easy to condemn either side in relationships that fall apart, or with people who switch partners they share a "lifetime bond" with every week/month/year. But what if I had examples of an unfaltering commitment on both sides. Is it the same? Logic says it has to be. But my heart says "is it?" And I don't want it called a marriage. It's not the same.

What does it say about my heart if I am fully content with the idea if it has a different name. Yet I recall seperate, but equal, and how well that worked. I suppose a marriage has as much religious implications to me as it does legal. So maybe I feel like it is treading on those toes. For example, what if another religious group wanted to call themselves Christians, with the same altar, church, etc, but they believe something completely different. But religious groups don't do that. We have different names for our sects and are content to have our traditions, even though some things are similar.

I can understand how people want to fit in. To be accepted, and not be singled out for persecution, and they are just in their desires. Would a civil union, or any other term, cause just that?

I think this is something that is fundamental in me, something similar to "I don't like vegetables". I can reason and rationalize things all I want, but it doesn't really change it.

It Is What We Make It.

There is one expression I always remember being uncomfortable with hearing:

“it is what it is“.

So I decided to sit down and figure out why it flusters me so much.

“It is what it is“

Now, I suppose in the most literal sense, it’s a statement that just can’t be argued with. I mean, let’s say “it” is “blue”. If it is blue, it is blue. Obviously. So, in such a case, it is what it is is about as accurate as you can get. My problem with the expression is that it’s never used in that way. If something unfair, unjust, or just plain stupid is taking place in front of you, there’s always that boss or friend or someone assuring you that “it is what it is”- accompanied by a shrug of powerlessness.

I associate the expression with an attitude of giving up and settling for less. It appears to be an excuse for accepting the unacceptable; a cowardice to make a difference. Its choosing to be powerless. True, if something turns out a certain way, it turned out a certain way- it is what it is. There’s no point in crying over spilled milk. However, shouldn’t we look into why the milk was spilled, so that we don’t spill it again? If something isn’t right, we shouldn’t just accept that it isn’t right. Shouldn’t we acknowledge injustice was done, and figure out how to keep it from happening again? Shouldn’t we call out inefficiencies and seek to replace them with efficiency?

It is what it is, but is it what it should be? Is there something we can do to change that, even if only for the future? Whenever someone says “it is what is” I think in the back of my head, “but does it really have to be?” I wonder why nobody (including myself) is mentioning obvious flaws that need to be addressed; after all, if they were addressed, it would not be what it is.

I realize to challenge the expression could, under most circumstances, make things much more difficult than most people would like. I could lose a job or jeopardize someone else’s, I could gamble with another’s well being, I could make a passing situation much more complicated. Egos could be hurt, authority may feel defied, the comfort of routine could be threatened . Ironically, this seems to suggest that the fearless confidence usually backing the phrase is nothing more than a facade. So really, people tend to use the phrase because they are afraid of what could happen if we question things.

That leads me to say this: “it is what it is” is really just a cowardly way of saying “I’m a coward”.

Why can’t we make it a habit to say “this is what it is, but what can it be?” Accepting the current circumstances, yet seeking to improve. To say “it is what it is” is to deny that we can effect happenings in the world around us, or that anything matters enough to try. Sometimes we are restricted by circumstances, there are things that we just can’t control… there are “its” that can’t be changed. But there are often things that touch the things we can’t control, and if we can access them, eventually we will leave a mark. How about people like Rosa Parks or Martin Luther King Jr….they could have said “it is what it is” because challenging anything would stir up too much trouble with no guarantee of immediate results. That would have been just lovely.

I’m not saying we all need to be revolutionary rebels over every little thing we’re not satisfied with. But no matter what scale of issue is at hand, to me, “it is what it is” reflects a lack of determination, a dormancy of conviction.

But… it is what it is. People tend to settle for whats thrown at them, so we have to make the best of it. Or is there something that can be done to change that?

Whether we can directly influence the outcome of a situation, or if we are facing a circumstance that refuses to be manipulated…

...I believe:

It is whatever you allow it to be.