One Man Mormon Blues Band: Thoughts

What must it have been like the moment Adam breathed fresh cool air into his lungs. Did he choke on the dust and awaken to a fit of coughing? Or was it easy and smooth as if awakening naturally from the morning light after a long restful sleep. Somehow I Iike the coughing fit best, but that’s just me.

What was it like the first time we drew a breath? For nine months of our existence it had been warm, moist, quiet, comfortable, and we gained oxygen from our Mothers blood. Suddenly we are being violently pushed, and then there is the rush of dry cold air, and bright light, and maybe pain. We inhale. We cry.

That which is most essential to our existence subsides into a gentle, tidal, unconscious rhythm. It is no longer a miracle. It only becomes part of our consciousness when the breath of life is threatened. And then we would give anything to have it freely once again.

When we live daily and intimately with God, we subside into a gentle, tidal, unconscious rhythm. We may cease to feel his presence as a miracle. But mortality is such that events always disrupt this life-giving association. Such events bring us to our knees and we desperately seek to have this association once again.

If only we would remember.

I have always thought that mediocrity was undervalued. Think about it, most people are just average. In fact, half the people you meet are below average. That’s the definition of average. The trick is to know which side of the tipping point each of us is on. And mediocre is about as close to being humble as you can get, without actually being it. One doesn't really have to worry about pride when you are mediocre, and you don't have to worry about the inheritance taxes the meek are going to have to deal with (whoo boy, now there's a problem I wouldn't want.) Anyway, not many people want to admit to mediocrity. But doing so demonstrates ones true honesty and sensitivity. Since no one else really thinks they are less than average, it makes everyone around you feel good to be superior to you. The way I see it, by being mediocre I am actually in the service of building other peoples self-esteem, and “when you are in the service of your fellowman . . . .” I am the elusive average, the theoretical mean, the standard upon which all men rely for comparison. Without me there can be no upper class, no tired and poor and huddled masses, no poverty level from which to claim privilege, no Olympians or Rhodes scholars. I am the one eliminated from American Idol so that other can have instant careers. (You know, the one about whom we all wonder why their family and friends didn’t tell them they had no talent before they actually got up in front of America to prove it.) The silent and enduring mediocre are the new, true elite!

It’s August. The rains have come to western Colorado. Many people do not realize that August is one of the wettest months in the desert southwest. It is during this time of year that moisture from the Pacific and the Gulf flows into the area. The ground is superheated after being baked in July. As the day warms, the heat rises and meets the cooler, moisture laden air from these regions and thunder clouds form. It brings refreshing rain and stifling humidity to unaccustomed dusty, desert-dwellers.

And when the rains come the water rushes downward. There is nothing flat in western Colorado. Everything is either up or down, usually to an extreme degree. The topography and the weather combine to concentrate the water into specific areas and flash floods. The rain often comes in isolated pockets, in such a way that you can watch it fall and the line of moisture hitting the ground move slowly across the street towards you. Or you can walk dry and cool on one side of the road, and watch torrential rain only a few feet away.

The concentration of the water into specific channels and low lying areas also causes the clustering of life into those areas. The cottonwoods dotting the desert floors are sure signs of waterways. In fact, any greenery may be a beacon to living things; indication of moisture nearby. It is there where you will find the plants and wildlife, and mosquitoes. In fact, the same species of animal on the desert floor may harbor more parasites than the same species 1500 feet higher. The seasonal nature of the rains allows waste products (and infectious stages) to build up during the dry part of the year, and then be flushed and concentrated into lower regions during the wet periods.

I often wonder what affect topography has on a growing child’s mind. Is my mind unalterably affected by having grown up in the Colorado Mountains? In what way might I be different had I grown up, or even lived for extended periods, in the rolling hills of eastern Nebraska, or the ping pong panhandle of Texas. As a child I recall thinking that no place was ever easy to go. Even when you were coasting on your bike, you knew you had to ride back up that hill on the return trip. No matter where you were, if you could see any of the mountains, you knew which direction everything else was.

In my dreams I’ve seen my Father
The man I’ll never be.
All around are the shapes of men
From whom I struggle to be free.
There’s the ghost of Mother’s dreams
The man I’ll never be.
In the shadow of the wind
Is the only place he’s seen.

In my dreams I’m unfamiliar.
Like a man without a past.
Twisted memories in a mirror
Like dark shadows on a glass.
When I dream laughter I dream my Father
My Mother’s dreams are shifting sand.
As I reach to draw them in
They run like water through my hands

In my dreams I see another
Of the faces I have worn
There are sacred signs and wonders
From the time that I was born.
That time is gone but I am haunted
Only the present clearly seen
It is the future I am seeking
A restless go between

I find it strange that some people who want to change their lives, often try to do so by clinging to everything in their past. It is frightening to change, but it is almost impossible when it is not done wholeheartedly.

When our nation was carved from the fabric of history, we tried at first to be a part of Britain, and something entirely new. In the end, our founding Fathers found it necessary to sever ties and start fresh. When Joseph Smith wanted to know which Church to join, he was told none of them. God’s plan could not be reformulated on the earth from within historically bound institutions. When we come to this earth, “trailing clouds of glory” from the pre-existence, our memories are erased. How could we hope to become something new while perpetuating to status quo.

More examples:
Adam had to leave the Garden.
Abraham had to leave Ur.
Moses had to leave the palace to become the prophet.
The Children of Israel had to leave Egypt.
Lehi had to leave Jerusalem.
Nephi had to leave his brothers.
Alma had to leave King Noah’s court.

Enough? When I lament my inability to change, perhaps I should examine what I am clinging to from my past.

Imagine! Is it an accident that the word "magic" is almost included in the word "imagine"? Does the word "imagine" mean "I do magic in my mind"? I don't know, but in the past two years I have been involved with a couple of projects involving imagination that have had a profound effect on me.

In 2006 I started trying to write twelve original songs capturing the people and events of the nativity, the conception and birth of Jesus Christ. While that project was under production I set out to explore the life of Lehi, from the Book of Mormon, in the same imaginary, musical manner. Thus my two most recent CD's are dramatically different than my first two CD's.

As I reread the appropriate scriptures and accounts, I tried to imagine what the people might have felt under their circumstances, what the place might have looked like, and exactly how did the events unfold. I have no idea if my imaginary creations are correct, or true, or if my skills adequately portray these sacred lives and events, but I know that the effort I made to IMAGINE what it must have been like had a profoundly moving effect upon my own life and understanding.

I have tried to continue to utilize this method of study in the past few months, but without much success. What I have found is that it is very difficult to do unless I have a specific goal and end-product in mind (such as a song, poem, story, or perhaps a work of visual art). But when I read a portion of scripture, and then challenge myself to recreate it in some form, I find that my understanding increases and I end with a finished project.

I wonder what might happen if all people begin to study in this manner. The world would soon be inundated with powerful, spiritual works of art. In addition, introspection and understanding would increase among the general population. What effect that might have on individuals, families, communities, the Church and the world . . . I can only imagine.

Graduation! The school year ends for many. What has been accomplished? What is there to look forward to? Many people think that summer is a respite from learning. In fact, it is where learning begins.

We learn about our world through movement and change. As babies we learn to move our bodies, and we learn to move other things. It is hard to learn much about anything until either we move, or it moves in relationship to us. Babies often think that if something moves out of its vision it ceases to exist. This is why they are sometimes alarmed when a parent leaves the room. Later, as they learn this is not true, they enjoy playing peek-a-boo.

A static scene, no matter how beautiful, quickly becomes boring. So we move around and examine it from different angles. Objects on display invite us to touch them, pick them up and handle them. Just watch children (and most adults) in the store. Algebra and Newtonian Physics were born when Newton decided to contemplate the motion of a falling object.

It's summer. Move. Hike. Play music. Swim. Travel. Join a team. Write. Read. Build. Create. Sew. Weave. Every man and woman has a school side of the brain that thinks school is the only way to learn, and another side that knows perfectly well that it isn't.

"For there must needs be, that there is an opposition in all things." This overwhelming and powerful truth is taught only once in the scriptures, by the prophet Lehi. I wonder how much of its significance he understood. You see he taught this truth to his family 600 years before Christ was born. It was brought to light in the year 1830, six years before Samuel Morse sent his first message across a telegraph wire. This message, as all messages on the telegraph, was sent using just two opposite symbols: dots and dashes.

Then consider how 100 years later, with the development of binary code and the computer in the 1900's, we have been able to create literally anything we can imagine with a series of electrical impulses that are either on, or off. As I sit and type at this keyboard with just two fingers on opposite hands, the entire English alphabet is coded for in a series of opposites. When we manipulate word processors, spreadsheet, family photos, data bases we are controlling a world of opposition.

When I sit at the microphone and turn my voice or mandolin into digital data, I am making music with a digital world of opposition. When we use computers to write, film, or edit stories that portray great struggles between right and wrong, love and hate, or good and evil, we tell the stories in the very same elements of opposition.

In recent years men have been able to use chemical molecules as code, using molecules with right hand and left hand orientation as signal units, or making visual polar water molecules that are flipped back and forth in orientation within magnetic fields to visualize internal subsurface structures. Perhaps in the beginning matter unorganized was simply matter that was all alike. Perhaps the creativity is nothing more than teasing out and making clear the opposition in the world and showing clearly code and the message.

Perhaps lonely Lehi, in his old age, his wife gone, giving final instructions to a divided family, provided us with one of the most succinct and powerful truths inherent in the Gospel. That God created all men with agency, knowing full well that the result would be a world of duality. And from that single fact, all eternity and progression can come to pass.

Why have so many of the radical leaders of history come from the desert, or run to the desert? Examples abound; such as, Adam into the lone and dreary world, Noah into a decimated earth, Abraham, Moses, Joseph Smith, Brigham Young. Even Jesus Christ spent forty, formative days in the desert.
Does something about our environments mold and shape us into certain types of people? Or is it just that certain types of people are drawn to specific environments. Or maybe specific environments, like the desert, have salient effects only on certain types of people. Perhaps it is a very intimate relationship
I have wondered what effect my desert upbringing has had on me. I was born and raised in a large, high desert valley in Colorado, surrounded on all sides by massive mountains and cliffs. Life in the rain shadow was hot and dry. Did I turn to books to escape this prison? Did I learn early that every direction was up? Is this where I learned that only long, steady steps ever reached the top? Is this why I feel like I grow in the sunshine? Are the massive distances and vistas that I grew up with, the reason I have always yearned to see so far? Are the imprisoning cliffs the reason I always yearned to be free?
If I am ever lost in the mountains, search the higher ground first. If I drown, look up stream for the body. If I am lost in the desert, don't bother to look at all.

Before my Father’s father, His father traveled west
And stood on windy peaks on the continents very crest
A land of milk and honey, at least that’s what I’m told
He came for opportunity, others came for gold

My Mothers great Grandfather, he also traveled west
And stood on lofty plains and gathered with the rest
A land of milk and honey, his shovel shaped the land
And in his honest labor, the shovel shaped his hand.

They came into the wilderness like Abraham of old
But where do the righteous go when the wilderness is sold?

They left behind the cities, teeming masses on the shore
They left behind the rich and they left behind the poor
One quarried stone and granite for buildings strong and tall
The other was peculiar and heard the mountains call

Now the cities have been built and we begin to understand
In conquering the wilderness we also conquered man
A land of milk and honey, the shovel shapes the land
A land of milk and money, the shovel shapes the man

Does a man become what he is because of what he does all day? Or does he choose what he does all day because of who he is?

It is obvious that music is a universal and powerful force. It moves us emotionally, spiritually and even physically. Many amateur musicians find pleasure in simply making music. Professionals make money making music. But I have accidentally discovered that music can also unite families.

I didn’t begin to write music until I was much older in life. I don’t claim to write “good music” (correct or classical), but I do hope I write “good” music.(clean and uplifting). My first song ever was written while attending Scout Camp with my son. I shortly discovered that a song could sometimes make a spouse like nothing else. So what followed were a number of songs for my wife. As my first daughter graduated from high school and left for college, I wrote her a song. Big mistake. Of course, all my children now expected the same. As grand children arrived, I wrote each their own song for their literal birthday.

I have now written over 100 songs dedicated to family members or family events in one way or another. Most of these I have never released commercially, except just a handful that have broader entertainment value such as “A Plate of Fudge” on the “Mormon Blues, Too” CD.

I have been giving talks for the last few years about how music can enhance our genealogy efforts and unite families for those with the interest in writing music for their families. I’ve decided to post a few of these songs, one at a time, to encourage others in this unique use of music. So today I am putting a song I wrote for my Grand daughter, Katia onto the music page as a free download. My own children have sort of habitually attended college in our town, married, had children, let us grow attached to them, and then move away. Katia was born in Grand Junction, Colorado and then shortly her parents left town to attend graduate school. My prevailing thought at the time was “Katia, Come Home.”

There are two ways of solving a problem: change the environment or change the individual. Probably both are necessary in this world. But when faced with changing the behavior of large groups of people, like in an election or through the electoral process, I just feel so helpless.

Changing People:
I am told that banding together in a political process, with a united front, can be powerful. But somehow it doesn't seem powerful or effective to me. Changes made in one election cycle are reversed in the next. Changes become so diluted with compromise and varied opinions that they are often ineffectual. I haven't seen it be powerful in a very broad way. Maybe it's just the hyper-polarized time in which I live.

In fact, a part of me fears political pressure. Such pressure from the population can be, and has been, mobilized against good, or even trivial, causes. Hitler, segregation, and even early persecution of Irish Catholics or Mormons are exemplary.

What seems most effective to me is to teach people one on one, or at most in small groups. In this setting, a person can have a personal relationship with others. As a general rule, people change because of personal relationships, not from strangers. If a stranger were to approach you on the street and tell you that your style was terrible and your clothes didn't match, you would, at best ignore them. A raised eyebrow from your spouse on the same subject can cause true anxiety.

Thus we can effect what a person does far more powerfully and effectively in our homes or in small social groups than on a national scale. But cumulatively, the effect could be huge. If all parents took their responsibilities seriously I suspect much inappropriate behavior would disappear.

Changing the Environment:
But, of course, that means changing parents. And changing parents would lead to a changed environment. So changing the environment is often a matter of changing people also. If this seems convoluted, what I am suggesting is that most of us are already combating a plague of sin and corruption when we teach our families, volunteer in the community, use self-discipline to act as examples to others and in general exercise our righteous influence.

The problem seems to be that many people don't even know what I am talking about. Who are the program directors at radio stations? Are they fathers and mothers? Who are these people making movies and television programs that exemplify foolish and even evil behavior and make it appear cool? Do they care so much about popularity, or ratings, or money, that they don't think about other societal issues? Obviously, yes they do.

There isn't even a Father present in approximately half the homes today. Single parents have a hard time just coping let alone doing all these additional services. Where are the responsible Fathers?

I suspect that my efforts at parenting and serving in the community are far more important to the world than any music I have made, or might ever make. I suspect my educational efforts (as paltry as they are) are more significant than my letter writing campaigns or civic involvements.

What happens to a dream obtained?

Does it explode like fireworks in your brain?
Or maybe it just hovers there
Like a wispy cloud of breath
In cold night air.
Does it fade and disappear?
Or sit on the shelf
Replacing the fear?

Maybe it grows
Like rising dough.

Or is just replaced by another goal.

A few years ago our last child left home. We couldn't seem to find a way to adapt to a home that had been added to, and built like "topsy", to accommodate each child as it arrived. So we decided we would downsize. I made calculations and plans based upon my rich experience in the world and we purchased a new home.

Within three years every reasonable assumption I had made, based upon the past, had proven untrue.

Now we have survived my miscalculations, even thrived. But I have reflected on this experience frequently, and as I prepare my financial and personal affairs for 2008, it seems to me an essential lesson. Living things do not live in a place based upon averages, or even the way it has been. If an animal cannot withstand freezing in some way, it will not be found in the mountains of Colorado. It is the extremes that determine our fate, not the past, or the average.

Our lives may proceed through time for long periods that seem uneventful, perhaps even boring. But it is the surprises, the catastrophes, the unexpected changes that dictate most of what our lives will be like. Methodical planning, saving and managing are wise and prudent things to do. But they will not sustain you when the extreme event occurs. Then only, faith and courage will matter.