Music that inspires

They warn, with my new job, that you should learn to leave certain things boxed up, zip locked, duct taped, or in the very least, shaken off at the door once we've stepped out of the office.  This is a concept called 'self- care'  I dig it.  And here's why.

For one, our sleep patterns are ridiculously thrown off.  For another, it isn't uncommon for you to call your supervisor to manage a crisis, only at the end of it, be joking around with each other, talking about what you had for dinner and saying something like "I love you".  And there's the reality, that the people you serve usually are kind to you, but to an end, and you won't likely ever be on the receiving end of anything special anytime soon.  You just start to embrace it.

I often times, have prayed for a good night at work.  Now I pray that my responses to situations and tensions can be pleasant, firm, and compassionate.  The whole turn your cheek bit.  Or take off the coat on your back and gift wrap it when someone steals from you.

Sir, I saw that you took that nice mesh Seahawks sweater of mine worth about $140.  Let me foil wrap the rest of my wardrobe for you.

What faith does this?

I like to pray.  I like to talk.  I like to sing.  I love to praise.  I love to listen.

So the most fulfilling time in a work shift is when I get to unplug a little and listen to some of the music I enjoy listening to.  On a trip recently I was asked what kind of music I prefer.  I said I was raised with Hip- Hop, Gangsta rap R&B, a little country, some classic rock, and I do love worship music, because of my love for Jesus.

Secretly I love movie scores.  I have tons of soundtrack music downloaded into my itunes library, and it isn't uncommon for people to access it and download most of my music.  I recently have gotten more comfortable singing aloud- after all such action does boost your immunity and improve your mood.

The music I listen to, inspires me.  So I'll share a small bit of my favorite music with you and it'll give you an idea of how weird, or how well rounded you may think I am.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LW0Wv_ZVGXo

[Interstellar score]


[David Crowder]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cObXwn-EgGY



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PBLaruol2gk

[Lumidee]

Under the sun

The night life takes some getting used to.  As the new job settles in more and more, the more creative I get to be in terms of getting in a sleeping pattern.  For now that seems to be the biggest distraction or worry.  I survived the first night's shift.  One point of emphasis that echoes back is the self care aspect.

Earlier in the evening, the twilight hour coaxed me out of my day slumber.  I had up to that point debated to get another hour's rest, thimble around hulu or netflix and get caught up on some episodes of shows I like.  There was writing this, or even the idea of writing this.  But that gleaning light- it caught my eye.

I threw on a beanie, a hoodie, some shoes, and got to waddling.  Some things to notice about this power walk.  I had in mind to boost my sluggish appearance, attitude, and spirit.  I needed this invitation.  So I walked, and I talked.  I like to pray.  At the beginning I suppose it's natural to feel the anxiety.  My body was trying to warm up, the adrenaline was starting to circulate, my mind a bit wandering.  So I pray.

I prayed for that person, perhaps who takes up the majority of my thoughts.  Prayed for their strength, their dignity, their focus, their relationships and development of character.  Then I prayed for friends and family.  I know it's the least I could do.  I prayed for their endurance, patience, prosperity at least in the spiritual and peaceful sense.  As the 1 mile trek continued I constantly mentally played through the evening at work that is to come.  I notice too at this time, the sun is gliding behind some cloud cover.  I speed up a bit for fear of the inconvenience of being behind an apartment complex and missing the sunset altogether.  I continue to visualize work.  My one place to do well, to be well.  I pray that aren't any serious incidents, that the people I serve and my co wokers can feel confident and comfortable in my serving them.  I wish good communication.  I pray that the power that be watch over the weary and tested souls in our care tonight.  I thank God for my community of faith, for its nourishment, it's blessing, its encouragement, and its protection.

The walk becomes easier.  More energized.  More effortless.  The blood is pumping  Then My thoughts transition into a state of playfulness.  Of vice and novelty.  I tell jokes to myself.  I imagine seeing people laughing or at least chuckling.  Co workers, guests, family.  lovers.

All because I strolled under the sun, and I'm glad for that.

Fathers and sons

I don't have a picture album.  In the years since I've migrated to my current home, I've moved from place to place.  All my worldly possessions could be summed up in a green tote, a couple of overnight bags and suitcases.  I don't have too many pictures, hardly any at all.  Especially none of my father.

I was raised as a Ward of the state.  My grandparents took care of me. I've never thought too hard about my father and mother's decision when it came to me.  Mostly because from a young age, the raw emotion- anger, rage, inadequacy, guilt was too much to negotiate.  As a young man now, I think more reasoned about it, slow and dainty.

Recently I received a phone call from my father.  His son keep in mind- a college graduate, had successfully hurdled the pitfalls of reservation life; things like becoming an unprepared young father, transient and shallow romances, seduction of alcohol and substances.  His son, had become everything he had not.  Not that I would ever demean my father.  At a glance it doesn't look like we have much common in all- my size and girth, his smallness and fragility.  Yet when I talk to him, my father, I realize I have his temperament, his sense of humor, and his general attitude towards compassion and empathy.

The most telling of our conversation is in the moment in which he shared about my mother, a woman he's been estranged to for almost 28 years.  He had crossed paths with her, and as they talked, naturally the topic flowed back to the one thing they had in common, their son.  He was softly candid and vivid in appealing to me with a pride that even after many years, he had remembered my mother's birthday, and that he was shamelessly still attempting to charm her.  I softly tried to validate the moment and told him I was impressed or "it was cool" that he remembers that.

Yet there was an eerie contrast in this tale.  Not a few days later, and for no particular reason, my dad wanted to go to a Yakama sweat lodge ceremony.  It's not uncommon for me to hear this from any relatives back home as to doing this.  So with a chipper and meek attitude, dad set out to prep the things necessary to make the ceremony to go.  His father was there, and in no time was berating and belittling the work my father had done.  I don't say too much about my father's father.  From the course of the conversation, I had just said "sorry" for being on the receiving end of that treatment.  He had called to "just talk".  I knew he wanted in no way, for his son to feel the same way about him.

I appreciate that.  I am immensely happy about it too.  One of the leading questions my father asks when we talk is if I have an 'i'yat' which in Yakama is asking "do you have a woman"- a better half, a significant other, a lover?  As least awkwardly as I can each time, I say no I do not.  I reassure my father his good courtship genes haven't been wasted.  I'm going to get there.

Even more so, I think of that day, a festive, God giving, and God glorifying day of bliss- my wedding perhaps, and it dawned on me.  A legacy and a patterned had devoured my father's relationship with his father- deeply ingrained pain, hatred, betrayal, abandonment, and resentment.  And it dawns on me the opportunity to reorient our family tree to a healthy, loving, redemptive relationship my father can have with his son.  And the hope comes in when I told him I go to Church, and he shyly asks "do you read the Book [bible]?"  I said I do. I hope this opens more doors of communication in the future.  But ultimately I'm grateful and encouraged because I lapsed into a vision that in the face of our relationship, I can see my father being the best man at that long awaited day down the road.