Mind Matters

Up at 4 AM

Taking stock of my life, I look back over the past several years and find myself unable to give a good account of anything other than persisting. Harrowings, this publishing arm of the LLC that I established as a memorial to my late father, is here on Substack to be findable. I frequently send the articles here out onto X, Facebook, LinkedIn, and BlueSky. I share them with those who receive my gratitude list as links. Some read them.

An Invitation to a Journey

I’m grateful to have received some feedback. I know that I don’t follow “rules” but just put out here whatever is in my mind at the time. The mind matters - and is matter not just a perception of the mind? That’s one of the places my mind goes. Is this not all simply how we see things and if we were to change our way of thinking, would the world not transform itself to match our minds’ projections? I don’t know.

It seems to me that this is a thread that has been followed by many members of my species. While I had not thought to go there, I’m now thinking of Neville Goddard.

Goddard's philosophy centers on the power of the "Human Imagination," which he identified as the divine spark or "God" described in religious texts.^[23] He taught that the external world is a projection of an individual's internal mental state, a concept often summarized by his phrase "everyone is you pushed out." - from the Wikipedia Biography

So mind, in its imaginings, imagines a world in which we exist. The last bit of quotation above would indicate that you are also a version of me and vice versa. If we all took this to be true, how much better might we treat each other? How much more interested we might be in who we are and how we have come to be?

These aren’t rhetorical questions. I’d love to know what your perspective is, if you are reading this. It’s easy to just click a button and leave your answer:

If you prefer, you can message me directly which I would really love to see:

Usually, when I write these articles, I place all the buttons at the end with the message: “Click a button. Any button…” but it is my experience that this rarely happens. I think it speaks to the matter of attention. Our minds are bombarded by so many messages out here in cyberspace. It is difficult to tell to which we ought to pay attention. Paying attention is an interesting construct in itself. Attention is incredibly valuable and powerful. It creates the world that we perceive. We do not see things as they are. We see things as we are.

So, all of this is to go into a reverie on how I can change my way of thinking. My very first dip of the toe into the works of Bob Dylan included this track:

I received this on either Christmas 1979 alongside Alan Parsons Project’s “Eve” and Jethro Tull’s “Stormwatch.” The lyrics are worth parsing:

Gonna change my way of thinking
Make myself a different set of rules
Gonna change my way of thinking
Make myself a different set of rules
Gonna put my good foot forward
And stop being influenced by fools

So much oppression
Can’t keep track of it no more
So much oppression
Can’t keep track of it no more
Sons becoming husbands to their mothers
And old men turning young daughters into whores

Stripes on your shoulders
Stripes on your back and on your hands
Stripes on your shoulders
Stripes on your back and on your hands
Swords piercing your side
Blood and water flowing through the land

Well don’t know which one is worse
Doing your own thing or just being cool
Well don’t know which one is worse
Doing your own thing or just being cool
You remember only about the brass ring
You forget all about the golden rule

You can mislead a man
You can take ahold of his heart with your eyes
You can mislead a man
You can take ahold of his heart with your eyes
But there’s only one authority
And that’s the authority on high

I got a God-fearing woman
One I can easily afford
I got a God-fearing woman
One I can easily afford
She can do the Georgia crawl
She can walk in the spirit of the Lord

Jesus said, “Be ready
For you know not the hour in which I come”
Jesus said, “Be ready
For you know not the hour in which I come”
He said, “He who is not for Me is against Me”
Just so you know where He’s coming from

There’s a kingdom called Heaven
A place where there is no pain of birth
There’s a kingdom called Heaven
A place where there is no pain of birth
Well the Lord created it, mister
About the same time He made the earth


ALTERNATE VERSION

Change my way of thinking, make myself a different set of rules
Change my way of thinking, make myself a different set of rules
Put my best foot forward, stop being influenced by fools

I’m sittin’ at the welcome table, I’m so hungry I could eat a horse
I’m sittin’ at the welcome table, I’m so hungry I could eat a horse
I’m gonna revitalize my thinking, I’m gonna let the law take its course

Jesus is calling, He’s coming back to gather up his jewels
Jesus is calling, He’s coming back to gather up his jewels
We living by the golden rule, whoever got the gold rules

The sun is shining, ain’t but one train on this track
The sun is shining, ain’t but one train on this track
I’m stepping out of the dark woods, I’m jumping on the monkey’s back

I’m all dressed up, I’m going to the county dance
I’m all dressed up, I’m going to the county dance
Every day you got to pray for guidance
Every day you got to give yourself a chance

Storms are on the ocean, storms out on the mountain, too
Storms are on the ocean, storms out on the mountain, too
Oh Lord, you know I have no friend like you

I’ll tell you something, things you never had you’ll never miss
I’ll tell you something, things you never had you’ll never miss
A brave man will kill you with a sword, a coward with a kiss

Copyright © 1979 by Special Rider Music

Slow Train Coming was the album’s title. It’s title track is worth listening to as well:

Again, its lyrics are worthy of repeating for those who read and ponder these matters:

SLOW TRAIN

Sometimes I feel so low-down and disgusted
Can’t help but wonder what’s happenin’ to my companions
Are they lost or are they found
Have they counted the cost it’ll take to bring down
All their earthly principles they’re gonna have to abandon?
There’s a slow, slow train comin’ up around the bend

I had a woman down in Alabama
She was a backwoods girl, but she sure was realistic
She said, “Boy, without a doubt
Have to quit your mess and straighten out
You could die down here, be just another accident statistic”
There’s a slow, slow train comin’ up around the bend

All that foreign oil controlling American soil
Look around you, it’s just bound to make you embarrassed
Sheiks walkin’ around like kings
Wearing fancy jewels and nose rings
Deciding America’s future from Amsterdam and to Paris
And there’s a slow, slow train comin’ up around the bend

Man’s ego is inflated, his laws are outdated, they don’t apply no more
You can’t rely no more to be standin’ around waitin’
In the home of the brave
Jefferson turnin’ over in his grave
Fools glorifying themselves, trying to manipulate Satan
And there’s a slow, slow train comin’ up around the bend

Big-time negotiators, false healers and woman haters
Masters of the bluff and masters of the proposition
But the enemy I see
Wears a cloak of decency
All nonbelievers and men stealers talkin’ in the name of religion
And there’s a slow, slow train comin’ up around the bend

People starving and thirsting, grain elevators are bursting
Oh, you know it costs more to store the food than it do to give it
They say lose your inhibitions
Follow your own ambitions
They talk about a life of brotherly love show me someone who knows how to live it
There’s a slow, slow train comin’ up around the bend

Well, my baby went to Illinois with some bad-talkin’ boy she could destroy
A real suicide case, but there was nothin’ I could do to stop it
I don’t care about economy
I don’t care about astronomy
But it sure do bother me to see my loved ones turning into puppets
There’s a slow, slow train comin’ up around the bend

Copyright © 1979 by Special Rider Music

It’s worth reiterating this, for me, since it all happened when I was but 16 years old. I’d try to end my life in January of 1980. I’d have a traffic accident on January 20, 1980 that totaled a car that my father had bought as an indulgence for himself but allowed me to drive. At 16, I had no business being behind the wheel of any vehicle. All of this, is surging up to the level of consciousness now at 63. That we all survived is something of a miracle. I am sure I should have been pulled from school and put into some kind of rehabilitation center. It was all down to my consumption of alchol and the obsession that seizes the alcoholic personality. It’s been quite a journey to get to here and now.

My perspective

My perspective on it all is often dressed up in some sort of deeper meaning, but that has to be laid onto the cold facts of the matter. I’m reminded now of a T-Shirt worn occasionally by Wavy Gravy that reads “In my defense, I was left unsupervised.” I was privileged to meet Wavy in 2016 at an event at the Bryn Mawr Film Institute and have been attending the weekends of “Unlimited Devotion” every year since.

Here’s a taste of this year’s edition:

Matt Butler, the conductor of the Everyone Orchestra, introduces Grahame Lesh and Friends’ set. Getting there just lead me to Nathan Graham Music who I just invited to be a guest on my podcast. That led me to realizing that I had made an outreach to William Lemke, the author of Aging Gratefully for which there are several upcoming book events including a performance with a former guest on the Harrowings Podcast, David Gans with his band, The Broken Angels on June 18, 2026 in Aurora, Illinois.

Is There A Point?

This is the work. While awakening at 2 AM and being unable to get back to sleep as I reviewed my current life and the way in which it has been feeling futile, I decided to get up and work through it by writing. Using the capabilities of the technology available at my fingertips, I’ve made my way through a few passages that might bear fruit.

Followers of “Harrowings” may find it difficult to travel through my writing and my wife, Lynn, and I have discussed how a memoir of mine might best be titled “So Much of It Seemed So Pointless.” That said, I’ve also toyed with “Partying in the Graveyard.”

Parties that I attended starting on September 16, 1978 shortly after arriving at what is now the Knight’s Inn at Trevose, PA. The link shows the arial view. It marked a turning point as I got to consume my first beers. Those who were there still remember. For me, the pivot was inward. I couldn’t wait to get drunk again and sought that state with a single-mindedness that was quite remarkable. I also hid this obsession to the best of my ability. There was one young man of my generation who notices my proclivities and took the time and risk of telling me that I ought to learn my limits. By that time, I was on the otherside of my attempted suicide. The irony is that he would lose his life to a drunk driver at the age of 48. I got a chance to talk with his son and widow last weekend when I was at Drummers Call at Colonial Williamsburg.

At about 3 minutes into this segment, Kevin W. Garland, the chap who at 17 suggested that I ought to look at my drinking, is seen leading his Mountain Fife and Drum Corps:

This year at Drummers Call, his unit was celebrating it’s 25th Anniversary. I’m grateful to have been able to perform and always feel that our fallen march with us in spirit when the Alumni of the Colonial Williamsburg Fife and Drum Corps take the field.

Kevin and I only got to speak briefly during the 50th Anniversary of our Corps celebration, but it was enough to see each other, eyeball-to-eyeball, again after many years apart. The courses of all of our lives, from that motel room in Philadelphia, PA through our summer 1979 “Canadian Tour” when we traveled to perform for a week at the Canadian National Exposition in Toronto, and onward until Kevin’s untimely death in 2011, just before his Corps was to travel to Williamsburg for its biannual appearance at Drummers Call - all of these paths are sinuously turning through our lives. It is truly said that life must be led in the present moment but understanding is only available in hindsight. As I have pointed out before, we never know what’s coming around the bend. In Kevin’s case, on an early May evening of 2011, it was a Ford F350 with an inebriated driver behind the wheel navigating at high speed and crossing the centerline into the path of Kevin’s Jeep. I doubt he ever knew what happened. I do what I can to keep his memory alive although he hardly needs the help. We loved him when he was with us. Like so many of us, he was an exceptional human being.

So, perhaps a bit of what I was experiencing in the hours between 2 and 4 this morning might be survivor guilt. How can one repay the unpayable debts we owe to others? Perhaps the answer is that we should simply accept them as gifts and acknowledge them publicly? The few paragraphs ahead of this constitutes an attempt to do just that.

Meanwhile…

River’s getting higher
No wood for the fire
They saw the Messiah
But I guess I missed him again
That brings my score to a hundred and ten
The water’s getting closer
Better ring up the grocer
Stack up the potatoes
Oh, Jack, are you ever coming back?
Will your operatic soul turn black?

Keep me turning, oh, keep me on
Keep me burning for you, son
Keep me turning
Don’t you leave me ‘til the very last
Keep me turning, I’m hanging on
Stop me yearning, I’ve had enough
Keep me turning
Want a hand with my backstage pass?

Children are smiling
Parents are whining
Bow tie tying
For the big day ahead real soon
Is there really gonna be no room?
I got a ticket
Just gotta get past the picket
They say that the trick is to walk in backwards
Like you’re walking out
I guess the lords wearing glasses now

Keep me turning, oh, keep me on
Keep me burning for you, son
Keep me turning
Don’t you leave me ‘til the very last
Keep me turning, I’m hanging on
Stop me yearning, I’ve had enough
Keep me turning
Want a hand with my backstage pass?

Keep me turning, keep me on
Keep me burning for you, son
Keep me turning
Don’t you leave me ‘til the very last
Keep me turning, I’m hanging on
Stop me yearning, I’ve had enough
Keep me turning
Want a hand with my backstage pass?

Keep me turning
Keep me turning
Turning, turning, turning, turning, turning
Turning, turning, turning, turning, turning
Turning, turning, turning, turning, turning
Turning, turning, turning, turning, turning
Turning, turning, turning, turning, turning

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Peter Dennis Blandfor Townshend

Keep Me Turning lyrics © Spirit Catalog Holdings, S.a.r.l., Spirit Four Music

This seems to me to be a kind of prayer from the pen of Pete Townshend. For me, the feeling is of always turning on this globe, dawn to dusk and back again. There’s so much I want to say; to convey and just tapping the keyboard is a kind of ritual attempt to contact other spirits in the world who are as confused as I believe that I am and say, “Do you see this too?”

I’ve spent more time not being inebriated than otherwise and Kevin’s admonition stays with me. There have been others also who have crossed my path and given me a sign that I might not be on the right track. Who is to judge, however? My thought is that it could well be that everything that happens must happen as it does because of cause and effect. Staying in the game as long as possible also seems to me to be a worthy goal and while I do that, I try my best to keep the dead alive.

While death may be inevitable, my service to those who have gone on before is to attempt to articulate something of my own experience of their importance. Everything that happens interacts and creates an infinite number of possible perspectives that one might take. I know that much more is flooding through my brain that I am able to convey through this medium. Still, this missive with it's various rabbit holes is a lot.

I should turn back to 1979, I think, as it was so pivotal in my development into the person that I have become today. As mentioned, I nearly died by my own hand and then could have died in an accident suffered later the same month. In living through these things, others were impacted, probably more than I realize now or can ever realize. Impressions were formed. Samskara is the term used for these by some.

The collected impressions of a lifetime are woven into us collectively. They make up our culture and there are things that emerge from this field of impressions which we can take in or not as we see fit. I know that many of us have a filter on these days as the sheer amount of information presented by the world to our senses overwhelms us.

From my position at the host station at Daily Provisions, I attempt to keep an eye on everything happening in that venue. People usually enjoy what they purchase. That’s great and I think contributes to the greater good overall. It’s keeping a team employed and we have all been there since we opened in August. I’m a latecomer having started my training shifts on March 21 after doing a “trail” on President’s Day. For the most part, I enjoy the work and do my best to make sure everyone is having a good experience. Physically though, it is very hard on my body. This brings me back to attention.

While I’m doing the shift, I rarely notice any physical issues unless I need to bend down to pick something up off of the floor. When I get home though, much as I want to pay attention more to my wife and her happiness, she’s pretty self-sufficient and I end up with my attention going into my body. The pain sent me to bed at 5 PM yesterday evening. Up at 2 AM with thoughts that were overwhelming me with self-reproach, I’ve now gone through several phases. In general, it’s been a purging.

So, I wasn’t able to stay for long in 1979. I’m right back in the present moment here in the Bunker. It may be time to wrap this bit of writing up and hope that some of it lands. As always, I’d love to hear your impressions and see if anything here resonates. Likes are nice, but it’s so much more helpful to get a reply, a message, a restack with a note, or a restack. Clicking the Restack button alone is just as easy as hitting like and so much more helpful in amplifying the signal through cyberspace. It’s even easy to push this to other platforms like X, Facebook, LinkedIn, and/or BlueSky…but why not all of the above?

I’m asking for your help.

Onward!

Click a button. Any button…