The Great Musical Reveal

At lot has happened in the last few months.  I have a new protocol.  I have chapters or episodes of productivity, which are not really chosen by me.  I go with the flow, and I have learned to be able to put one thing down and shift gears.  Consequently one of these surges of productivity closes itself to me before I am able to reap the entire benefit.  I have to set it on the shelf, change gears, and do something else.  Usually I don't miss it for a few months, and then the distant memory of that very rewarding thing creeps back, and I realize I no longer have it.  Perhaps I do, because I did the work and experienced the gain, but it was put on the shelf so suddenly like the closing of a chapter in a book, I lose it.  I feel in inexorable feeling of loss realizing that what I worked for and achieved had to be stymied.  Possibly this is the true feeling of love, of Romeo and Juliette, of loving and losing.  If you don't lose it perhaps you never know you really loved it at all.  Recently when I realize I have sacrificed something of great personal reward to me, I do my best to find it again.  There have been several chapters in my life which have been lost, and I have a yearning feeling of disappointment.  They are few, and they don't mean that much.  If push comes to shove, then I remember the one thing for which I sincerely am disappointed.  That faint, not important, memory is that I missed the tangible and long term opportunity to guide young people in their education of music.  I was primed, and I had studied.  I was at the top of my form, and fate decided, or rather my own personal inability to understand politics decided I was not to fit into mainstream academic American university.  This unbeknownst to most is the Graceland of teaching.  It is that not because it is the pinnacle of substance, integrity, honesty, and artistry, but because it is the white man's creation of this utopia.  It serves itself rather than serving humanity and their humanities.  It is okay I missed this boat, because I realized it was not necessary for your success.  In many ways it is and was necessary for your financial sustenance.  I don't miss teaching that much, but as I see the world unfold around me today with its hypocritical, fraudulent, lies, I pine for a time when I was at my prime and would have been able to guide young lives in the field of music creating a better world.  I also miss swimming, becoming a competent basketball player, and playing jazz with a peer group.  I feel uneasy about composing, because there are tangible forces which affect your ability to do such.  Composing is reliant upon hearing and your ears, and as such our environment can quash one's ability to compose.  I all ready experienced this in the city of Columbus, Ohio, a city rife with rail noise.  When I discovered these machines were hindering my ability to be able to do my job, I changed gears.  I put composing on a shelf and closed this chapter, until later I was able to pick it up at the appropriate time.  Ironically the environment for this was being trapped in a tin can floating in the middle of an ocean.  There was no more appropriate venue for creating music.  I was lucky that I was ready for it.  I hope I will be ready for the next chapters when they reveal themselves to me.