The Conscious Pilgrim

referenda

I know a lot of people find this blog (somehow) from all over, which is great – but I’m going to talk about something specific to my region, and that is the most pointless, expensive, and stressful referendum in the history of the province of Alberta – and possibly Canada. I don’t have the figures for that.

I am by no means a professional political critic, accredited journalist, or anything of the like – but I have lived here for my entire life… through Ralph Klein… Steady-Eddie Stelmach… Redford & her sky palace that cost her the premiership, Prentice and his snap election that forfeited the house to the NDP… Notley… Kenny… and now Danielle Smith, who has painted herself into a corner.

The official date of the referendum is 2 days from the posting of this blog, and since there are 10 questions that nobody asked for (all of which are to be counted by hand, since our premier doesn’t trust voting machines, but somehow does trust A.I. data center projects) – MANY people have voted in advance by mail, or advance-polling. I voted earlier this week at an advance-poll.

So with that in mind, I’m certain that this post is coming a bit late, and there are likely no fence-sitters left to sway at this point… so this is just me airing my grievances, I suppose. So, if you’re not into that, feel free to turn back now.

THE NINE: Yes, the first 9 questions that pertain to immigrant status, healthcare woes, and various other systemic problems that we’ve been dealing with for decades (healthcare… education…) before the most recent influx of immigrants and migrant workers from within Canada coming here to make a life…

I’ll start by saying that to my mind, there are no racist questions… there are only racist answers. That said… these come pretty close.

It’s a hell of a thing to blame the newcomers for an old problem, particularly when the mandate was to attract workers to come to Alberta… so to deny (or charge a premium for) education and healthcare to refugees and newcomers who are holding up the wobbly table leg of our provincial economy is not only cruel, it invites further class division (which is a polite word for “crime“) as well as the potential for things like… measles outbreaks, for example.

At any rate, it’s nonsensical. Particularly when these separatists want to draw the line at folks who’ve been here for 12 years or less… (Tell me you moved here during the $250/barrel oil boom without telling me…)

I voted no to all 9 questions that asked if I think this fiscally irresponsible government should be able to have more power and less accountability with tax dollars.

QUESTION TEN: It reads like this on the referendum ballot:

Should Alberta remain a province of Canada, or should the Government of Alberta commence the legal process required under the Canadian Constitution to hold a binding provincial referendum on whether or not Alberta should separate from Canada?

Here’s my critiqued version:

Should Alberta remain a province of Canada, or should the Government of Alberta commence the (non-constitutional as determined by 2 separate courts, and thus, very questionably) legal process required under the Canadian Constitution (again, not constitutional) to hold a binding provincial (although if there’s going to be one, it should be a national) referendum on whether or not Alberta should separate from Canada (thereby spitting in the faces of the veterans… and spitting in the face of the indigenous peoples who are protected by treaty rights… ushering business and investment OUT of Alberta… and causing our property values to PLUMMET while having NO trade agreements, NO currency, and NO way to defend our borders and by extension our precious natural resources from the Russian submarines that have been stationed due north of us for years, or from our American neighbors deciding we need a little “freedom”)?

If you’re wondering… I voted to stay.

These are not partisan issues, but they’re being painted as such.

And the separatists – who cannot agree on what to do next, by the way (between being sovereign, or joining the USA, both of which screw us all royaly) – are already positioning themselves to cast accusations of voter fraud.

Stay vigilant, people.

keep digging

I’m on a bit of a spiritual journey. I guess I always have been, and it’s taken me to some uncomfortable places and some very comfortable places in my life, and the only thing I can tell you with any true affirmation is that both the good stretches and the rough stretches are temporary.

This year has been uncomfortable and amazing all at the same time. I’ve been honing a new skill and an old skill simultaneously while life throws curve-ball after curve-ball in my direction. I’ve been comforted and challenged; often simultaneously, and often from the same source, and while I don’t always know how to feel about what’s going on around me, I have learned that I am strong in ways that I’d never realized, and fragile in ways I’d never anticipated.

All that really means is that I am human, and that I am capable of change – but none of us are capable of change unless we take an active role.

This is where patience comes in… which is probably a discussion or another day.

Now, I have AuDHD (ADHD & Autism combined into one baffling diagnosis) so when I dig into a topic, I dig in real fuckin’ hard. So, in anticipation of this I refreshed my brain’s knowledge of the left hand & right hand path, the straight & narrow, Jesus’ sermon on the mount… and ultimately deep-dove into righteousness and selfishness, and if I was to sum it up into two sentences, it would look something like this:

How righteous someone is largely depends on whether or not the author – who is ALWAYS a human – felt about the intentions of the person they’ve labeled as righteous, and not whether or not righteous deeds were being done. Furthermore; many ‘righteous’ people throughout biblical history were actually heinous people who were actively doing heinous things, and the word ‘righteous’ gets unfair attention in many of those stories.

A possible 3rd sentence might be: Most of your preconceived notions about what is ‘sinful’ are likely lost in translation. At any rate, I’m of the relatively newfound opinion that a truly spiritual life ought not be guided by the culturally and regionally acceptable practices of a 2000 year old civilization, often written hundreds of years after the fact and translated by people with political and religious agendas and personal convictions.

TLDR: Jesus had some interesting and insightful things to say. It’s a shame his fan club doesn’t know what most of them are.

When I talk about spirituality, I am referring to my relationship with the rapidly deteriorating environment and the very questionable people that inhabit it. I am talking about my sense of purpose and the direction of my life and my interests. I’m talking about my questionably-wired brain and my surroundings… my artistic endeavours… my gift to humanity.

I’m currently fighting an ailment – nothing detrimental – that is affecting my artistic life.

It’s causing me to pause and reflect, and to take inventory of my blessings and my gifts, and the symbiotic relationship I have with this world. It’s stretching my empathy and my sympathy for people in similar circumstances, even though by comparison, my problem would hardly register as a problem at all.

It’s a physical strain brought on by an unfortunate set of circumstances and I’m being forced to rest and rehabilitate my wrist. It fucking sucks, but I am forced to be proactive about rest and recovery, changing habits, and allowing a level of self-care and patience that I rarely afford myself.

In short: my wrist hurts, and its affecting my guitar playing.
I won’t be a victim… but I will be my own advocate, and my own nurse when the situation calls for it, and it’s calling for it now.

How is this a spiritual challenge?
Playing guitar has been my identity for decades. Music connects me with other humans, and IS my environment of choice. How is it not a spiritual challenge?

Do I think there’s a cosmic rationale for this?
I won’t know till I’m back in full-force, so we’ll have to see how my brain and my artistry evolve through this quiet recovery time.

I ain’t done yet though.

boredom is the goal

do hard things. meet hell. keep going.

I missed a post last week. Again. Second time in a few months. Third time since I started. Ultimately, I’m good with it.

I missed writing it altogether because I was engaged with real life. I spent time with people I love, and I made music and I entertained people. These are not just real life things, but they are also noble acts.

Truthfully, I used to look forward to writing these posts, but for longer than I care to consider, I’ve been setting reminders for myself to write an entry every week. Yes, I enjoy writing. And I enjoy writing these blog entries, specifically.B

But, I also enjoy engaging in real conversation with real people. I love being on tour. I love learning. I love; despite my propensity to avoid it, being spiritually and intellectually connected to other people. Especially other people who are searching for meaning.

I love experiencing the shit (retrospectively, anyway)… I certainly don’t seem to at the time, but I love fucked up paint on something I’m painting. I love sour notes but because they reinforce the structure of the song. I love death and birth and wedding vows and performance contracts and sketchy hotels and oil changes because of the potential for growth and success – BUT all that said: Life has dealt some shit hands this year. Sounds bonkers, but when I am under pressure, I am in the moment, and the moment is where I want to live.

Do I handle it as gracefully as I want to? Sheeee-it, no.

I shut down. Get quiet. Introspect. Suffer. Overthink. Self-destruct. And eventually, pull it together.

But I do a little better every time.

When I was younger, I was brave and I knew everything – and now I know that I don’t know anything except what I am scared of.

But I do hard things… And I am progressing. And when I am on a trajectory of growth, I am happy where I am.

I have enjoyment, satisfaction, and purpose in my life.

So missing a post doesn’t bother me. Not anymore… Because it’s an indicator that I am engaged with life, with art, with knowledge finding, and with the universe.

As an aside, I’m also trying to avoid using my phone as a source of entertainment. I aim to create and engage more.

I’m good with it as a method of contact, and a learning device – more on that later, perhaps… But as an entertainment piece, I’m hoping to recoil… Probably not completely, but it’ll be a process.

I am building a thing, and I thought it would be ready by now, but it’s not. That’s ok… Because it’s real.

At any rate…

Will I continue to send dumb reels to my friends? Absolutely. But… perhaps with less frequency.

Will I be doing cool ass shit whenever possible? Count on it.

off-days

Everyone can use a day off.
A week off sounds nice, and by ‘sounds’ nice I mean it s o u n d s nice… but when it’s a week you didn’t choose to take off, it’s frustrating.

Well, I didn’t take the week off. I just had an ‘off’ week in a couple different ways.

I had a teeth appointment on Monday morning.
And I had a bloodwork appointment on Thursday morning.
These things; in and of themselves, are fairly nothing-burger reasons to register my disgust throughout the online world, however I am DOING SOMETHING and however important that something might be to me and my autistic, routine-loving, goal-oriented lifestyle, it’s fair to say that those things are important enough.

I’m amid a level of progress with my fitness and nutrient intake that I am very concerned with knocking off the tracks, and these 2 events meant I got 3 workouts in when there should have been 5. And of COURSE other irritating things happened this week.

Tuesday, I had to take my dog to the vet – he’s fine… just an ear infection that’s clearing up nicely.
On Wednesday, I’d anticipated the arrival of a package that never came.
Y’know… basic human shit.

As much as a vet visit and an undelivered package messed with the equilibrium of my calendar, they didn’t mess with my brain the way a missed workout does. I tend to feel very undisciplined when I miss a workout. My psychological response to not being able to start the day with my intended program is to (metaphorically) throw my hands in the air and write the whole day off… I’m far more likely to stay up too late, binge-eat junk food, and ignore my macronutrient balance and overall calorie intake on a day when I miss a workout than on a regular training day.

Again, the difference between an ‘intentional rest day‘ and a ‘missed training day‘ are pretty vast, despite looking exactly the same from the outside. A missed training day feels completely fucked-up and out of sorts in the “I missed a workout so I might as well eat an entire bag of oreos and not move from the couch” sort of way. An intentional rest day is something I earned, that allows for a longer sleep, and longer dog-walk, focused energy on my personal projects, and a visit to a record store, among other things.

But I digress – these things are going to happen, and I need to make room for them at those times, because if I’d had 2 consecutive weeks of ‘4 workouts instead of 5‘ I’d be just as annoyed. And as I look at the coming months, I see only a couple or 3 days of potential interruption until Christmas time… at which point I’ll be trying to put a positive spin on all of THAT mess and derailment in this very blog.

Anyway, we can resolve to roll with the punches… or we can stand firm and get our jaw broken – but in this metaphor, either way… a punch in the face is coming for you.

In other news, you can go stream “The Future Ain’t What it Used To Be” in its entirety on whatever service you use to steal music. I’m boxing up records and mailing them out this week. Clicking that link means it’s not to late to order your copy on vinyl.

artisan

I’m more than aware of my dependence on social media as a means of connection. I don’t spend a lot of time scrolling these days because I’ve got some manual / analog projects to take my focus away from that which is… not real… mostly bullshit.

That’s not entirely true…
The not scrolling as much is true, but since I started removing superfluous rage-bait and polarizing views from my feed, and replacing those things with photos and discussions between people who are actually doing things on their own, while trying to connect with others doing the same. That helps… to be able to lend advice or help someone who is struggling to understand a concept I learned, and to similarly be provided the same from other people further down the road than me, is it’s own reward.

That might be the closest I’ve been to ‘gift without reciprocation’ in a long time, which is the ultimate act of service, really. To help someone without them really even knowing who helped them.

I digress… I am much happier when I am doing something.
Making records. Writing songs. Building guitar pedals. Writing in this blog. Beating myself up at the gym.
These things have a lot in common, not the least of which is a consistent practice.

The conversation of ‘motivation’ comes up from time to time with people, and the response is always “It’s not motivation. Motivation is a temporary fancy, and when motivation moves along, discipline takes over.” Though; if I’m being honest, sometimes discipline and stubborn persistence kinda look the same.

This coming week I have 2 different mornings where getting a workout is going to be a challenge and/or likely not happen. Byt the second one, I’ll be entering the “no! fuck you! I’m going to the gym!” phase, and I’ll be trying to finesse things so I can get 5 x 90-minute sessions in.
I’ll probably settle for 4.
3 is not something I want to do.

Beyond that is a skill level that is always building, and material knowledge that is constantly growing.

This is where I tend to think that as someone on the autism spectrum (AuDHD, if you’re interested) I am able to zero-in on the practical knowledge and learn a lot in a short period of time. However,there is a patience I have, as someone with ASD, and a patience I lack, as someone with ADHD… and my personal history will dictate that I am capable of building and following a plan, but and prone to hitting that ‘home stretch’ before running for the metaphorical finish line… where I will figuratively trip over my own shoelaces and fall on my face.

But I get back up.
And I fix it.
And I keep building.

They say you have to be “happy where you are” and as long as I am in a state of learning and growth, I am at my happiest. Problems don’t bother me much, because although I can lose patience on occasion, I know I will eventually understand how to correct any problems. I WILL get it. It WILL be okay.

This is how you get good.

six years

Six years ago my 12-year-old and I went to go pick up a puppy, who came from a farm outside Grande Prairie. We were a few months into a pandemic that rendered restaurants as uninhabitable wastelands, and live music as an assault on the public.

I kid; of course, but sometimes I have to stop and consider the notion that EVER performing music in front of actual people again was up in the air, and all aspects of my livelihood were under threat.

We brought home a 6-week old, 17-lb great dane cross and completely changed our lives forever. At first, in the chaotic way… but ultimately in the best way. I can’t imagine my life without this amazing creature, who somehow manages to house 7000 lbs of character inside that tiny (ha!) 145lb frame.

Kirby. The best dude.
I knew within moments that he was going to give me a real rough time in the future… the distant future, though, right?
He’s blessed us with good health, amazing companionship, and more love than anyone should ever be able to claim. And after 6 years, countless disemboweled squeaky toys, innumerable devoured watermelons, and relentless protection from package delivery people and political canvassers alike, I can only hope and pray for another 6 years, followed by another 6 years.

My sweet boy.

I have to stop typing now.
He’s watching me type this… and it’s time to friggin’ WRASTLE!

the do-gooders

The conversation around authenticity and being ‘self-made’ is always an interesting one to me, and the impetus for this thought today is from 2 very important events that I think we’re probably all tuned in to, which I’ll get to in a minute.

Nobody is self-made. Every last one of us has been shaped by experience and mentorship – some of those experiences are wonderful, and some of them are absolute shit.
Those of us who find ourselves in some of the crappiest situations we can imagine are there because of poor decision making, almost exclusively related to advice we’ve received, and trauma.
Similarly, many of the most successful of us have found ourselves there because of advice we’ve received, and trauma.

But whichever the case, we are guided and manipulated; like a shiny silver pinball being batted around a tilted table until we inevitably glide past our own limited control, and the game is over. Nobody wins at pinball… you just take longer to die than someone else, and then a bunch of people gather in a room and – metaphorically speaking – take a look at your scoreboard. Some people hold all-time records…

One of the highest scores of all time is Dolly Parton… despite a tragic upbringing and constant mocking and criticism at every turn in her life, managed to amass wealth to a degree that most of us will never reach, and did so by putting love and understanding ahead of her personal feelings.

Forbes estimates her value around $500,000,000.00 at a point where she’d purchased and donated 3.5 million books for parents to read to their children, countless fortunes given through charities, and created jobs for an innumerable quantity of people who; incidentally, she’d offered to pay for their college tuition and books for anyone who wanted to further their education. She; herself, never went to college.

She quite literally couldn’t give her money away fast enough to truly rid herself of it.

She’s an outlier in times of a Donald Trump presidency, who’s waged a trade war on Canada, which is an ongoing event that you don’t need to learn of from me when you can consult actual, credible news outlet… so all I will say is that he; too, has received trauma and followed bad advice in his life.

She’s an outlier in times of Elon Musk, a man who’s intent on colonizing Mars in an effort to get away from his family trauma and bad advisors.

I’ll end that list there, because I am not interested in discussing the motives of billionaires, other than to say that Dolly Parton would have been a billionaire if she hadn’t spent so much time giving money away, though a decent amount of her time was also spent writing, as she has more than 3000 songs with her name on them currently… which is probably a bit light, since copyright laws around creative works has a long, storied history of being shady.

I’m reminded of Fred Rogers in this moment, when he recounted an experience of about seeing calamity on the news and becoming visibly upset. His mother consoled him and said “Look for the helpers. any time something bad happens, you will always find people helping.“

To say that Dolly was a helper is a massive understatement, and there are obviously many accolades I’ve left out – but you’d be hard pressed to find someone who had something bad to say about her.

It’s easy to say that these are dark times, but I maintain that if you are looking for darkness, you will find it. So be sure to take a minute and “look for the helpers…“

Maybe even be a helper.
Seems we’re short on those.

As an aside, I received an amazing number of text messages and direct messages through social media within the first 10 minutes of the announcement that Dolly Parton had passed.

I didn’t know what to do with that information when I recieved it… and in retrospect, neither did any of the people who reached out to me. We all just needed to make sure that everyone knew that
The Queen is Dead. Long Live The Queen.

For the record, I was never a superfan of her music.
It was great, and authentic, and inspired generations of people to take the world on their own terms.

Personally, I just have a couple of her records, and a lot of respect.