Tool Me (Mistress Music part 4)

        If I say that I’m into the band Tool, I sometimes get strange looks. If the look could talk, it would say “Aren’t you a little old for that stuff” and “Those dudes are weird. You must be weird”.
        Tool’s music is heavy, dark, and reeking of angst. The band doesn’t sing about love, but about the planet’s lack of it. Lyrics call out the hostility of the universe and the darkness of human nature. The world never sounds like very much fun by the end of a Tool song. They expound a rather bleak world view. The songs are hardly ever less than five minutes long, with many quite a bit longer. All in all, the music is about as far away from the chart topping three-and-a-half-minute-top-forty-flavor-of-the-week as you can get.
        Not everyone’s cup of tea. So why is it mine?
        My love of music breaks down to the emotional connection that a song makes to me. Or doesn’t. Some songs reach me, and some don’t. Some artist’s resonate inside of my heart and boil my blood, while others can’t get a rise out of me with a crowbar.
        Despite the all important emotional connection, I still like to analyze why I like some songs and not others. I like trying to figure what about the music moves me. What touches my heart, and why? What does it bring up for me? How does it make me feel? And why?
        I’m naturally extremely curious and very analytical. It stems from a deep desire to understand, which can occasionally get in the way of me actually enjoying something. Growing up, I developed those skills in part as a reaction to my environment, which was often chaotic, unpredictable, thick with tension and anxiety, emotionally repressive, and usually didn’t make much sense to me. Come to think of it, not much has changed in my family since then. In fact, it’s gotten worse. A lot worse.
        Anyway, I somehow got the idea that if I could understand something, I could protect myself from it. Life doesn’t always work that way, I sadly discovered, but I did develop excellent analytical skills as a result. For as far back as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to know what, why, and how. Where and who always seemed like petty details.
        Back to Tool and why I dig them. On a purely emotional (and completely inexplicable) level, their music reaches me. This is one thing I love about music. Some of it, for reasons that remain a mystery to all of humankind, just slams me right in the solar plexus, lights a fire between my eyes, and emotionally kicks ass and takes names. Sometimes it happens after one listen. Sometimes it takes a while.
        Explicably, I can tell you that I find their music powerful and mesmerizing, with killer riffs and more hooks than grandpa’s tackle box. They create monolithic, syncopated grooves that are like sonic pile drivers. I don’t feel like I’m listening to their music. I feel like I’m being assaulted by it. And I love it. It’s Brutal and Beautiful, all at once.
        I don’t share their bleak outlook, or their overt pessimism, but I can relate to it. I’ve become much more optimistic and happier in the last year, but I still love their music. When I was much angrier, I liked them, but I like them no less now that I’m not so angry. I don’t have to be angry to like songs that are angry. What I relate to is the feeling of anger. The power behind it. I identify with the the pain that anger wraps itself around; like an iron cannonball around a soft, tender center. No longer vulnerable, now, thanks to anger, the pain is a weapon. A projectile. And I’m the cannon.
        I’m not suggesting that’s the way to handle pain, but I certainly understand it, and I’ve been there plenty of times. I believe that if I ever stop being able to relate to that, I’ll have lost some of my perspective, some of my compassion, for the anger and the pain inside of myself; inside of all of us, to varying degrees. I don’t want to come from anger. But I don’t want to lose touch with it either.
        I’m forty-six and still love heavy metal and all sorts of loud, aggressive, powerful music. I don’t find that the least bit unusual. Because seriously folks, who the hell started this horse shit about music being age specific? People don’t usually speak about outgrowing a painting, but they apply that dynamic to music. I’m not talking about honest changes in taste, where you one day find yourself emotionally un-reactive to music that once got your groove happenin’ or your head banging. I’m talking about mentally convincing yourself that you no longer like a song or a band because you’re “not supposed to” due to your age or social status.
        On the contrary, I find it absurd that people stop liking bands or songs because of subversive societal peer pressure, or because they “should be over that by now”, or because they think they’re too old, or because a band’s no longer chic or hip. That to me is far crazier than liking songs that fuel adolescent sex fantasies, explode with youthful exuberance, flirt with violent imagery, or light up the sky with aggressive energy. All conjure up very human experiences and very human emotions. Even if we don’t succumb to all of them, we can relate to them.
        My taste in music has become more eclectic as I age, which is a pleasant reversal of what I see happening to many fellow music lovers. I encourage you to rediscover the music that once ignited your soul and brought your emotions to a fever pitch. Maybe the old tunes won’t do it anymore. But don’t let that be because they “shouldn’t” do that to you. Let it be because you just honestly don’t emotionally connect to the music anymore. Being able to make that distinction means knowing the depths of your own heart, and owning it. And if old music doesn’t do it for you now, find music that does. It’s out there. Go get it. Don’t lose that spark. It’s still there. Maybe now it just takes a different kind of fuel to feed it.
        Even though I’m a different person now, music of the past often allows me to sink into the best of what I was at the time. Old music can ignite long dormant ideas, passions, and shades of emotions that I may have left behind in my growth. The beauty is that re-discovering that music doesn't necessarily cause us to regress, but can energize elements of ourselves that may need a good kick in the pants. Or gentle pat on the ass, depending on the music.
        As we age, far too many of us experience a narrowing of the mind, a closing of the heart, and an expansion of the waistline. I’ve worked hard at reversing that for myself. I find myself in better condition today than ever before, with a more open mind and a more open heart. I believe that capability is in all of us. Being thinner now than you were when you were twenty may be more work than it’s worth to you, and I understand that. In fact, all of it might seem like more work than it’s worth. But I encourage you to challenge that. You could find that getting older means becoming more emotionally available. You could find that an open, constantly expanding mind gets easier to manifest as you age.
        I did.

To hear a sampling of Tool songs, go here.


©2009 Clint Piatelli. All Rights (and a Wall Crumbling Merciless Barrage of Heavy Metal Wrongs) Reserved.

For The Love of Titans

        One of life’s most beautiful events is experiencing a true connection with another person. It sometimes lasts for only a few seconds, but the length of time is irrelevant. Because in those few seconds, magic is created, and love becomes embedded into your being. And it stays there with you for the rest of your life. You may “forget” it, or more accurately, your brain may not consciously remember it, but your unconscious mind does. Your being does. Your heart and your soul never forget it. Experience enough of these episodes and your heart becomes full. Your soul experiences bliss, and relishes it’s time here on earth.
         It can happen anytime or anywhere. In that moment, time stands still and the rest of existence fades into the background, because the only singular thing that matters in that moment is the sacred connection between two souls. I believe that we all have souls. And I believe that the soul’s purpose is to heal. And to love. Which are really one in the same.
         I am, for the first time in my life, looking forward to stringing thousands of those moments together into a relationship with one woman. I am not afraid of that connection anymore. I know that a connection like that will help heal us both. And I’m ready for that.
         There is a scene in the movie Remember The Titans that moves me every time I see it. It’s when Gerry (a white All-American linebacker) and Julius (an equally talented black linebacker) first connect on the field. Julius makes a good stick, Gerry makes note of the tackle, and Julius tenatively responds. Then Gerry takes the initiative and yells “This is left side!” and jams Julius in the shoulder pads. Julius is taken aback by this sudden act of camaraderie and looks slightly dumbfounded. Gerry looks at him and nods as if to say, “C’mon man! Gimmie something back!”. Julius finally responds mirroring Gerry’s shoulder pad smash and yells “Strong side!”. They then go back and forth like that a few more times, steadily amping up the intensity, while the entire team watches on.
         The team, and the film’s audience, know what is happening. For the first time, the two are truly connecting. They are displaying that connection, and in so doing they are risking themselves, in front of the entire team. You can see the two literally falling in love with one another right there. It’s one of filmdom’s truly mesmerizing moments.
         When I watch that scene, I can’t help but be moved, because I see a supremely beautiful and sacred event taking place. Two estranged people, two estranged souls, coming together for the first time. Creating something real right in front of me. Creating pure magic right in front of my eyes. In that one moment, all their history and all their differences disappear. In that moment, all the shit that came before them becomes irrelevant. All the pain and hatred and misunderstanding between them evaporates. All that exists between them, for the first time, is love. Man that’s fuckin’ beautiful.
         And that is what I want. I want it with one other woman. I want it with other people in my life who I love. I want it as often as I can stand it. And now that I know that I want it, I ask for it. I’m beginning to attract it to me like never before. And I’m damn excited about that...


©2009 Clint Piatelli. All Rights (and a Titanic Number of Wrongs) Reserved.

Respect My Oh-thor-ah-tie

        What does the word “Authority” conjure up for you? Take a moment and reflect on that. See what I just did? By telling you to “Take a moment and reflect on that”, I sounded authoritative. At least, I felt so. Did you? Did that phrase sound bossy or pushy? Or did it come off as just a simple request? Whatever we brought into this little exchange regarding authority colored our experience in that moment.
         Because I have a significant problem with authority, here’s what happened for me. The moment after I wrote “Take a moment and reflect on that”, a voice in my head said “Don’t tell people what to do. That makes you sound like a pushy, overbearing jackass. Just like all authority figures. And you don’t want to be that.” So I have this piece of me that was so wounded by people in authority that he views all authority figures as the Anti-Christ. He hates being told what to do so vehemently that he can view a request as a command and immediately go on the war path. Just as significantly, this part is hyper-vigilant and paranoid; he’s going to make sure that I never become an authority, and therefore never an authority figure, because that’s the worst thing I could be.
         So, in his misguided way, this part of me is protecting me from becoming an overbearing asshole. He’s trying to help me. His methods are twisted, but he’s trying to prevent me from becoming that which he most loathes. In doing so, however, he taints my experience. If I feel as though I’m being the least bit authoritative, I hear his voice. And then I struggle with sounding too much like an authority. Even if I know what I’m talking about. Unless I get mad. Then I have no problem being authoritative. And ironically, it’s then that I have the potential to become that bossy jackass. All on my own, I’ve internally created a bit of a conundrum.
         It’s what I bring to the situation that has the most impact on how I experience it. The other person may not view my actions as authoritative at all, and even if they do, may not have a problem with authority. Regardless of how they feel about authority, it is my attitudes, beliefs, thoughts, and old tapes about authority, not theirs, that determine my experience in that moment. But most of us aren’t aware of that while it’s happening. Some of us aren’t aware of that at all. Ever. I call those people “family members”.
         When I know what the hell I’m talking about, my inherent nature is to be authoritative and confident, but not cocky or overbearing. If I bring all of myself to the experience, I’m compassionate and helpful at the same time I’m providing firm guidance. Or solid information. I’m asking you to trust me, because I know what I’m doing. I know what I’m saying. Listen to me on this. Follow me down this leg of the path. I know where I’m going, and we can both get there together if you have some faith in me.
         I’m a teacher. I’m a healer. And the best teachers are themselves students in the same moments they are teaching. The best healers are themselves being healed as they heal others. Inherently, I see and I understand the symbiotic, synergistic, give and take relationship between student and teacher. Between healer and those who need healing. I know that all of us are both. It’s just that some of us become over-identified with one role or the other. We get stuck in the notion that “I am the teacher, you are the student, and thus the information and the learning flow but one way: from me to you.” In that lies the potential for the classic authority figure who abuses their authority. That’s what many of us saw growing up. That’s what many of us still see. But we can choose to shift that paradigm. First within us, and then out in the world.
        In this blog, I share my heart and ask you to listen. I do it because I want you to know me. If I go deep enough, I’ll see that ultimately I want you to love me. But it’s even bigger than that. I’m asking you to trust me as I attempt to re-introduce you to your own heart. If you already know you’re own heart, I’m asking you to go deeper. I’m asking you to follow me. To come with me. Share part of your journey, if you like. In that way, I have the opportunity to follow you. Take the journey however you want. However works for you. But take it. Go. There is in fact no destination. But the lessons and gifts along the way are priceless.


©2009 Clint Piatelli. All Rights (and an authoritative number of Wrongs) Reserved.