I was going to rage about narrow mindness, fanatical intolerance etc, after becoming aware of some pratt in the USA who felt it their duty to carry out a despicable offensive act of which could have horrendous reverberations across the globe, and worse still perports to be a Christian, pot kettle black is what springs to mind, but it is late at night & there is enough negative energy in the world as it is. So instead, I thought it was a good time to celebrate diversity.
I was listening to Sea sick Steve this afternoon, my latest CD acquisition, and marvelling over how after a whole album I did'nt get bored listening to his lyrics and voice, both of which seemed to be quite unique in each song. It made for a nice Sunday afternoon, never mind the rain, I had good sounds, good company (hubby was listening too), and a good book.
I just joined Litopia Writers' Colony, requiring a description of myself, my likes, my aspirations, and it occured to me that I am extremely grateful for the eclectic taste in books, music, food, just about everything, that I have been gifted. I enjoy all sorts of sounds, although I have a wee aversion to "pop" stuff, mainly the stuff churned out that sounds all the same, more video candy than a work of art, but opera, classical music, blues, jazz, country, country rock, spiritual, even some of the stuff the teens are listening to, I rejuvenated my love of Big Band, thanks to Harry Conick Jnr, so Glen Miller was on the turntable a while ago, and a quick trip down nostalgia with Vera Lyn, and a few of the mid & post WWII sounds.
My collection of books is the same, across all the genre's. I just finished reading about Vita Sackville-West, her marriage, then on to a book about Sissinghurst by her grandson Andrew. While the gardens Vita & Harold created are a source of pride for the family, and survive as a result of the National Trust, there was a lot of emotional pain passed down through the Nicolson/Sackville-West family, and its astounding that Andrew appears to have either escaped (through the love of his wife and children, and his siblings) the residue of that, or has been healed from it one way or another.
Like families, countries can carry the emotional scars of the past, and the question is when is it time to bury the past, leave it behind, and move on to live the life deserved, free of all the animosity and fear. It is like living with a permanent stain in their psyche - no matter how they try to leave it behind, someone somewhere around the world is going to constantly draw attention to it, reignite it, use it to get themselves or their views in the headlines, - the ego.
Going back to the Sackville-West/Nicolson family, I kept wondering who was looking after the children while Vita disappeared off to visit girlfriends, lovers, etc. As a mother myself, I know there is no just packing up and taking off for a few days/weeks/months, it just doesnt happen, parenting is a partnership, and the most important role a person is going to have in life. So who was looking after Nigel & Ben? I'm not naive, I know that it was time when nanny's did the bulk of parenting, and parents tended to not be hands-on. But what a disaster, reading Andrew's account of his father, Nigel, was very sad. Had Vita & Harold been like Andrew & his wife, Nigel would have been touch with who he was, and then a better responsive parent. Andrew seems to have put to rest the ghosts of the colourful lives his grandparents lived, especially when it was published for the world to then pick over while he was quite young.
Theres that saying about what doesnt kill us, makes us stronger - well Andrew must be quite a rock. There are so many different stories from around the world told about family, what family was, and what it has become. I suppose if we look at the world from that perspective, see each country as a member of the greater world family, and whenever one country falls out with another, its just sibling interaction - but why is it that someone has to be "right" and by default the other "wrong", or "accepted" and "unaccepted". Looks like we are still a long way from the melting pot that Joni Mitchell once sung about.
Things I'm grateful for today:
A sleep in
Food for dinner