Sands of Time

The winds of change are everywhere
And all the world must be aware
There's nowhere left for man to go
The sands of time are running low

These visions fall before my face
I see the end of human race
These feelings rise inside my soul
And everything is out of my control

The winds of change are in the air
The winds of change are everywhere

Judas Priest

The Pathology of Civilization

“We reproduce catastrophe because we ourselves are traumatized - both as a species and individually, beginning at birth. Because we are wounded, we have put up psychic defenses against reality and have become so cut off from direct participation in the multidimensional wilderness, in which we are embedded, that all we can do is navigate our way cautiously through a humanly-designed world of symbols – a world of dollars, minutes, numbers, images and words that are constantly being manipulated to wring the most possible profit from every conceivable circumstance. The body and spirit both rebel.” (David Watson, Pathology of Civilization)

Poem - The sting of Loneliness

Loneliness

by Rebecca Drollinger

It is cold today
Indeed the rain is falling and I am alone.
Thoughts of life and love,
meaningless to anyone but myself.
I am alone.
They watch me, their eyes not knowing,
knowing nothing of what they see.
I am but another creature, alone.
They scurry on the surface, unaware,
unaware of the life below
when you are alone.

Loneliness, not a burden nor a sorrow,
but a time of solace, of deepness
never to be shared, never to be understood.
They can never reach the place where I am
And I know I will never reach the place where they are.
I know I don't want to reach that place.
True happiness is here, unmisted.
Unmisted by smiles or laughter,
unmisted by the joys of company.

To find true happiness,
to know if one is truly happy,
he must be happy alone.

And the gods created music

It seems forever since I've written here. I've been preoccupied with music as of late - 6 months to be precise. Ever since music re-entered my life everything else has fallen to the wayside.

Music was my childhood passion. My classmates, friends dreamt of being lawyers, and doctors (fueled probably by parents' dreams that never materialized) I dreamt of being a concert guitarist or pianist. I remember picking up my mother's broom and pretend playing on it for hours on end, until they got me a mandolin. I'd strum it, pick it, sing along with it, pretending I was the next great musician. During the summer heat, I'd leave the bedroom window ajar and give my neighbours an earful. But they only had praises; "we hear her play all night, and enjoy it...you should send her to the conservatory," they'd murmur to my mother. Even the class teacher had summoned my dad to come in and listen to me sing during music class in an effort to persuade him to send me to music school.

But alas, all musical dreams were to come to an abrupt end when we - once again - changed countries. We lived in a Middle Eastern Islamic theocracy for the next 8 years where all musical activities were banned. I was robbed of not only my dreams but also my childhood and adolescence as a result.

So, almost three decades later I've picked up my greatest passion. I train from 3-5 hours a day on the classical guitar. Nothing is ever the same again. I feel fulfilled, satiated, complete in a way I haven't since childhood. Friedrich Nietzsche had a clue when he wrote, "without music, life would be a mistake."

"So many squandered moments, so much wasted time," goes the lyrics of a song. That is how I feel about my former life.

But it is never too late, is it? As long as this heart feels the intensity of each note, and as long these long, slender fingers can emulate what the heart feels on the instrument, I will be playing...Oh yes, I will be playing until my last breath, much like the celebrated late Spanish guitarist Andres Segovia.

"Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life."