Spo-Reflections

Mark at CityWoof recently went to hear his first opera. He writes in his blog he loved it and hopes to hear more. My excitement for him reminded me how much I enjoy the Opera. Let me tell you about opera before I drag Dr. Jung onto the stage.

Opera as we know it has been around for over 400 years. The earliest composers of opera were trying to recreate drama from ancient times. Ancient Greeks went to theater at religious festivals. They went as a community to participate in a ritual. The Greeks felt music could transcend a human soul, or interact with nature to alter both. The early opera composers were trying to recreate that experience.

“Opera” is a drama set to music and singing.

Music is beautiful; theatre is fun. The combination of the two, well, what is not to love?

Saying you enjoy opera is like saying you enjoy food. Like food, there are so many types – plain or fancy; nibbles or banquets, ‘old fashioned food’ or fusion cuisine. And then there are all the regional variations – German, French, Italian, etc.

Opera encompasses an enormous venue.

Some of the most beautiful music and memorable dramatic characters have been written for the operatic stage.

Music can do things that words alone can not adequately do. Often the words in an opera are rather simple – but when the composer as dramatist places them to a certain tone of music, they transcend to something spectacular.

“Whoever fears my spear will never pass through this fire!” hardly sounds moving on paper. Within the context of its music it is transformed into something beyond words.

In my attempt to blog about Jung and Opera I am getting into waters way over my head. There are books written on this subject; my little blog entry won’t do it half injustice.

”One might describe the theatre as an institution for working out private complexes in public.’

From a Jungian point of view, the reason Opera remains so popular is it draws upon the Collective Unconscious.

Opera is full of characters that touch upon the archetypes.

We have all known a ‘Carmen’, the Seductive Woman. We all know (identify with?) Madame Butterfly who waits patiently for her love to return, only to be disappointed. Peter Grimes captures the misfit in us all, rejected by the tribe for not fitting in.

In early works of opera - and in Wagner  - the characters ARE archetypes.

We go to the opera to share our collective dreams and experience the numinous through the fusion of drama and music.

I don’t relish the notion of reincarnation. To go through time jumping from body to body like a hermit crab sounds tedious.

I know a few people who believe in reincarnation; they have tried to explain it to me but I get easily confused. They believe some of my interests and longings are leftovers from past lives.

It is an intriguing concept. If they are right then I have been the following –

1)     A Pacific Northwest Native American. 

When I first visited the Northwest I fell in love with it; it felt like ‘home’ although I have never lived there. I collect Native American art; I am drawn to it for no logical reason. One of my recurring dreams is visiting a Shaman in a longhouse on the coast of British Columbia.

2)     An actor during the Elizabethan era.

This is another example of my attraction to a time in history, and the drama of a certain period for which I have no experience.

3) A hedgehog

During high school art class my cartoon logo of a hedgehog appeared spontaneously; I have been drawing hedgehogs ever since.

4)     Messalina

I don’t think I will explain this one.

5)     Eleanor of Aquataine

Or is this merely my fondness to watch and imitate Katherine Hepburn?

The Car Key Gnomes have been quite active this month.

For those not familiar with car key gnomes, they are a species of elf that take car keys from where you set them down, and put them in the couch or some other out of the way place. Once they put the keys in the washer machine. Active at night time, they are insatiable in their need to move objects around. When they can’t get hold of keys, they branch out into wallets, cell phones, and books. 

They drive me bats, but one has to live with them.

Worse - they’ve emailed the relatives to come over.

Our house is plagued with fairy folk, obsessed with causing chaos.

The Computer Gremlins – they can be more annoying than gnomes. They freeze up computer screens and force me to reboot the computer. Brother #3 insists this is merely faulty Windows products Mr. Gates purposely installed to annoy and make things generally irritating. But I know better.

The Entertainment Centre Pixies – their life’s work consists of casting spells when I attempt to remember how to operate the control devices that operate the TV system. As soon as I touch one of the controls, the pixies discombobulate me to forget again how to operate the damn things. They have rewired the system so the only function I want – playing an ipod outside – is not operating.

The Cup Sprites – it is their habit to get out all the glasses from the cupboard and fill them half way with drinks and place them around the house. These fairies drive Someone bats. I am forever gathering up these cups, but to no avail.

By the way, the sprites have Someone completely fooled; he thinks the half consumed beverages originate from somebody else.

And the worse ones are …….

The Laundry Goblins – while my back is turned they go into the dryer and pull out just one sock or that certain handkerchief and run off with them. When they can’t find items to steal, they shrink T-shirts and shirts. Bums.

The Phurfest last weekend went well. We had a good dinner and evening entertainment. In the silent auction I won a drawing that Someone won’t have it up in the house lest it shock visitors. He is not wrong. The drawing is hanging in the walk-in closet now. The drawing is a heart warming spectacle.

Someone and I continue to have very bad allergies; his eyes are like cherry tomatoes; when I start sneezing I can’t stop. We are looking forward to the summer heat frying off what pollen is ruining our lives.

There are so many projects that need doing around the house. This weekend I should make a list and prioritize what needs to be done ASAP.

I received 6 heirloom tomato plants from my ‘dealer’ in NC. 3 are already dead in the Arizona climate. One of my teachers defined depression as the result of the continual attempt to obtain impossible goals; growing toms in Phoenix may qualify for such.

Speaking of summer, it is getting hot enough to brew Sun Tea. I’ve put in my order from www.distinctlytea.com  for 300g of Yunnan Imperial. This ‘red’ Chinese tea can sit in the sun all day long and not get bitter. It makes good sun tea.

We have no plans until mid-June. We signed up again to go to Flagstaff to volunteer at their Pride Festival. It will be year #3 as ‘serving wenches’ at the beer stand.

I like Flagstaff – you can get LeCroix water there. I usually bring home several cases.

And finally, the work out programme progresses. The personal trainer has me doing butch things like picking up sacks of sand and slinging them onto my shoulder. Several of the exercises have sinister names with “Turkish’ or “Bulgarian” in their titles. I get short winded easily and it all makes me feel like a wimp.  But I persevere. I am drinking some whey concoction guaranteed to keep Bally’s Fitness in profits.

Every once in a while I have emotions to just give up. I don’t mean commit suicide; I mean walking away from all that I have and all that I do and go do something else. Anything else.

There is nothing overtly wrong in my life. However, life’s routines sometime feels too much and not worthwhile to keep going. This usually occurs when there is nothing happening but the daily grind.

C.S. Lewis wrote in one of his books that people don’t succumb to disasters so much as by attrition:

“You see, it is so hard for these creatures to persevere. The routine of adversity, the gradual decay of youthful loves and youthful hopes, the quiet despair (hardly felt as pain) of ever overcoming the chronic temptations with which we have again and again defeated them, the drabness which we create in their lives and the inarticulate resentment with which we teach them to respond to it – all this provides admirable opportunities of wearing out a soul by attrition.”

This feels right.

There are 4 ways to address this;

1)     Be patient and wait it out. I know from experience they don’t last. Something splendid – or bad – comes along to shake up the sense of complacency. 

2)     Change things. Perhaps Intuition says it is time for a shake up. Do some Self-examination and look at what truly needs alteration. When libido is sucked down into the depths, it is a sign to sit up and assess things.

3)      Act on the ideations. I know people who do this and it is tempting. When they feel lackluster they get out of whatever they do. They often move. This usually doesn’t work well; they may be leaving all behind but they are taking themselves with them.

4)     Change the attitude. Men and women in the monastic life literally do the same thing day in and day out; and the seasons have a familiar pattern as well. They have peace in routine. There is a name for “joy from the routine” in Tibetan monasticism, but it escapes me. It takes the negative term ‘stagnant’ and turns it into the positive form of “unchanging”.

I don’t have much success with #4. I have never done #3.  I do #2 all the time and even that gets a bit dull. So I guess I will settle with #1.

While I don’t have much patience in short term endeavors, I am very patient in long term matters. How else did I get through school until I was 30?

Recently I wrote about beer: I thought I would write about wine.  I prefer wine to beer, and either to a weekend in Iowa.

Wine was a special treat when I was growing up. My grandfather liked to have wine at Thanksgiving and Christmas, so wine was associated with special times.  He liked German Rieslings. For a long while I thought all wine was white and sweet and crisp (and German). 

My boring parents never drank wine with dinner; we were a ‘milk’ family. When I grew up I vowed I would drink more wine.

I made a study of wine. I read a lot of books; I read “The Wine Spectator” every month. I got all the lingo down: I think I have a discriminating palate. 

When I lived in Chicago, I had a basement.  I started developing a wine collection. My focus was finding very good bottles at low prices. I like the notion of drinking a $15 bottle ranked at “85” rather than a 200$ bottle ranked at ‘90’.

Turns out, I am more ‘book savvy’ than a drinker. Someone is not a great wine drinker (and red wine gives him a headache). So we don’t drink much wine. Then there is the Arizona climate. Wine ‘bakes’ with heat. In summertime we keep the AC at 80 degrees (yes, that is cool compared to 110 degrees). This ruins what wine we have. I’ve learned to buy a bottle and use it or loose it.  No more collecting.

Last Christmas we decided to forgo much gift giving in lieu of buying a wine storage box, but we haven’t yet purchased it.

Once again my genes work against me. I get rather sleepy after 2 glasses and therefore limit myself to that. In a restaurant I never order a bottle of wine; I order by the glass.

My favorite vineyards –

Stag’ Leap in Napa.

Schloss Vollrads from Germany.

Ruffino Chianti.  

Pol Roger is my champagne (non-vintage is fine)

Cakebread Cellars

Pinot Noirs from Oregon.

Eiswein from Ontario

A Shiraz from Australia.

If you drink wine, please tell me your favorite or a good recommendation.

I am always keen to try new types.

I like writing letters. This revelation evokes the same emotional reactions as if I announced I enjoy listening to the wireless. Letter writing is considered a quaint past time from an era long past.

Writing letters by long hand makes me feel I am in league with the letter writers of history. We know so much about famous and ‘day to day’ people from their letters. Letters were detailed, articulate, and often works of art viz. beautiful handwriting. Penmanship was once considered a sign of good character.

I use stationary with personalized initials on the letterhead. The envelopes are lined. The return address is printed on the flap. Out of whimsy, I use my rubber stamps. When I feel especially giddy I use sealing wax.

I have saved letters all my life. I have every letter from my pen-pal of 25 years. There are letters from relatives long deceased. Reading the letters written by my great Aunt Ruth evokes memories far clearer than looking at her photograph. The faded smell of her stationary takes me back to her.

My letter collections are tied in bundles by string or rubber bands. They are on of my greatest treasure.

I hope the letters I’ve written over the decades are in similar boxes, saved for reading decades from now. Letter writing makes me feel I am creating something of myself that will continue on.

I consider letters as a gift from the soul. I try to assure the receivers they are in no way obliged to return a letter with a letter of their own. (The usual emotional response to a received letter is fear; a sense of obligation to write one back in response; as well it should!)

Nowadays-letters are nasty business type letters, or ‘form’ letters, either asking for money or presenting problems via certified mail. I used to look forward to the post. Now it merely brings junk, bills, and other things I don’t want.

Alas, I have not written a letter in a long while. I too am guilty of email. It is easier after a long day to send off a hasty short email. My stationary sits unused. I can’t remember the cost of a stamp. Even the manufacturer of my stationary has gone out of business – the irony! The stationary shop at the mall is now a computer store.

I don’t think a computer file of saved email will ever replace a cardboard box of hand written letters from Aunt Ruth.   

One of the tricks in Medicine is knowing how your patient is motivated to do things – and appealing to their particular approach.

I knew a patient whose cocaine dealer would intermittently shoot at him. I pointed out if he didn’t go to the crack house, he would not get shot. I tried to make a simile;  If I kept going to a certain restaurant because the salmon was good, but the waiter always beat me up, I wouldn’t go any there more.

He replied “Doc, with that approach, you are going to miss out on a lot of good fish.”

Ah well.

One of my teachers thought people fell into 2 categories when it comes to motivation……

The first category is “my type of people” – people who do things because they fear consequences. For example, I don’t do drugs as I fear I would get sick or in trouble. I studied hard because I feared I would not get into medical school.

Nowadays I go to work, take exercise, and pay my taxes etc. all with some fears that if I don’t do these things, there will be consequences.  (I won’t have any money, I’ll get fat/have a heart attack, the neighbors will talk etc.)

The fellow in the salmon example is part of the second category of people. They do things because it feels good. They don’t think of the consequences of their actions. It is no good warning them their actions will have dire consequences; it doesn’t register.

I recall watching Bill Clinton’s blue dress scandal with my father. “What was he thinking of?” my father asked out loud. Well, that is the point, he wasn’t thinking. He does things because it feels good. At the time he was feeling ‘Gee, this would feel great.”

He wasn’t thinking ‘I wonder what this would sound like on CNN”.

People in both categories find the other way absurd.
Consequence-people” think pleasure people foolish.

“Pleasure-people” find consequence people dull and missing out on things.

People who do street drugs often are in this 2^nd category of people. There is little good trying to tell a substance abuser ‘If you do drugs your health will suffer’. If they thought like in the first place, they wouldn’t be doing drugs. With this group, I have to use an approach that entices something good to them, like “If you stop using drugs, your ability to get an erection will come back and you could have sex again.’

Today is my mother’s birthday. She is 70. This is a picture of her with her two beloved grandchildren Nephew the Older and Nephew the Younger who displaced me as the apple of her eye the skunks.

She is getting what she really wants for her birthday – a family get-together. Even her brother and some cousins are coming into town.  

My mother is a nice person. Really. I have never heard her say anything nasty about another person. I have never seen her shout or yell. She doesn’t swear. She bakes cookies when she goes visiting her kids.

More important, she is happy. She has a marriage of nearly 50 years to a man she loves. She is pleased as punch over her children and she adores her grandchildren. When I brought Someone into the family she folded him into her line of chicks. When Brother #4 married a woman with 2 teens, mother accepted them like her own.

Her one problem is her health. She had a bad reaction to cholesterol medication and her muscles are weakened. But she remains very active in church matters. She volunteers at my alma mater medical school. She has been an amateur singer for many decades. Etc. etc. etc.

So Happy Birthday mother, you are a fortunate woman indeed. 

This weekend is our bear club’s annual ‘convention’, called Phurfest.

Someone and I will check into the hotel and stay the weekend there, despite it being in town. Driving to/from the convention is time consuming and we get home too late/miss out on some things.

We will spend most of the weekend helping out, running errands and manning the hospitality centre. I prefer this sort of activity to the scheduled events or sitting by poolside.

I am not very good at sitting still.

I haven’t been to similar Bear Club party weekends, so I don’t have any comparison to ours. I suspect we are one of the tamer ones. We will have a few bar events, a dinner with entertainment, and some poolside activities. There will be a lot of food. We will have a silent auction for charity. Someone and I contributed a basket of imperial tid-bits.

At last report, reservations are down compared to past years, probably from the economy. People have to pay more to get here, either by flying or by driving. We are getting more ‘locals’ this year.

This year’s soiree has a science-fiction theme. Last year’s theme was cowboys AKA “Bearnanza”.  Each year we announce what is next year’s theme, and my proposal turns out to be the winner! ; a Roman theme titled Ursus Maximus.

Togas, gladiators, and slave auctions….the mind boggles.

So I don’t know if I will have access or time to blog much this weekend.

Perhaps I can read blogs during the late night shift between 12-2AM, provided there are no late night bears in need of hospitality…..

oooh I am talking scandal!