The full music experience...

I listen to music, a lot of it and most genres. I talk to people about music, and most are into one, or just a few, genres because of the beat or lifestyle connected to it.

I am not very hung up in genre, I am interested in what artists have to say. Or perhaps express is a better way of putting it. That is where I focus.

It's the artists that give me good, present texts I continue to listen to, those who give me challenges in

addition to the music; Regardless of instruments, beat or image.

I like the songs I feel that I totally understand. Music which express a mood, feeling or stand, in addition to contents. I so admire the skills some musicians have to work their instrument, to tear sounds from their instrument, or voice, which express emotions and create harmony in me. At times I just turn the volume up high, lie on the floor and let the music wash over me. Feeling as one with the elements.

I admit it: I'm a word freak. I do not always notice the sound cheating or if the bass sounds a bit sour. Maybe because I do not listen hard enough, and instead think: I know these songs, I know the lyrics, I know the pauses, the phrasing, the transitions, the voices... But I love to hear them again and again directly mediated through the intense communication between me and the music. I anticipate the text, a line that I might hear something new into, that gives me a new way of perceiving the song.

And often, when I hear the songs I listen to them, over and over again: the first, the second, and third time...

And listening to the music often gives me just as much, if not more, as if I read literature. You know; proper literature, reputabel literature, written by authors highly regarded for their wordcraft.

Music provides the chance to experience a contemporary community that's there without having to talk about it. In many ways both music (with its sound and lyrics) and literature activates some of the same receiver unit in me. I open myself to someone else's thoughts and engage in dialogue with another's view of the world.

I try to understand and harmonize with this view of my world, and to make it something I can relate to and understand.

When I read, I listen to someone’s voice, his view upon life, just like I do when I listen to, or read, lyrics

Sometimes I communicate with a particular song, almost arguing with it, and then I find I relate indifferent to it. It depends on how I set my mind there and then. I don’t always feel the light attitude towards life. It is not always the right thing for me to live in the moment... but some times it is.

Music is all about movement. It's all about rhythm, the communication that may change between performances in different settings.

If you know the songs well, you notice the differences in performances.

Music has two dimensions to create their expression, whereas text has one. Musical highlights invites text into dialogue with it; it can verify it, or it can disprove it.

Both the music and the text reaches the listener and goes together in a whole. The lyrics with its poetry or prose creates meanings and engage in dialogue with the reader or listener. The musical setting limitsthe lyrics. The music can be changed and varied, while the text remains unchanged.

A song engage me differently if it is performed by a band with full power, or just vocals and guitar or saxophone. Rock beat gives me a completely different experience than when I hear it acoustically. Same text, different perception; Same contents. The whole package; setting, beat, lyrics, mood... gives me a different inner experience of the contents every time I listen. And to me, that is the gift music gives me: The possebility to admire how someone out there express my own existence so much better than I can ever possibly do myself.

To lead and be led...

Being a leader must be very difficult: You have to make decisions and have the last say in matters which concern others. Not only people, but also the place, environment and standard they find themselves in.

At the most basic level, a leader is someone who leads other. A leader is a person who has a vision, a drive and a commitment to achieve that vision, and the skills to make it happen. You make things change (hopefully to the better) and function, and you make it all happen by loyal subordinates, who have the qualifications needed to get the job done.

If one, or more, of those postulations are lacking, you really have a hard time trying to be a leader. Simply because you are not... at least not the leader you ought to be.

If I were to call a meeting, and the people to attend agreed to both time and place, I would expect them to be present and prepared. Regardless if it is a parents committee meeting at my children’s school, the team at work or some charity work group.

Efficient meetings have an agenda, and the agenda has significanse to the job instruction. In other words: to participate in those meetings is part of what you are paid, or signed up, to do.

Ever participated in one of those meetings with no agenda? To me they come across as pretty meaningless because nobody really knows what they are supposed to have opinions on, or what to check on beforehand.

I get so frustrated when grown ups expect me to waste time on meetings which often end up as a pointless exchange bazaar of recipes. I think there is a time and place for everything. If I am effective at work; well, more time to play.

Further on I would be really upset if someone brought their underaged child to the meeting, and when commented upon I got the answer that they all totally accepted the child’s presense. I may be totally wrong about this, but I think there are issues which are adult problems and worries... just like I believe there are activities that apply to adults only.

In addition I would be really upset if the participants just popped by for a few minutes, especially if that participant was the head of department...

To be a leader means you would just tell the rude, totally unengaged head of department to sit down and participate.

Tell the parent of that child to find somewhere else for the child to be during the meeting.

If the emloyee takes his liberty to consider your meeting unimportant or insignificant there should be some kind of consequence. There must be fait in the understanding that the leader knows, and act, according to the workplace's and the emplyees'  best interest. We are not very good at anarchy, you see.

Do what a leader is supposed to do: take charge! And demand they act according to the responsibilities they have in their job. (Reading this I do understand why I could easilly come across as a rigid nerd..)

Just like the leader. The leader is responsible for every call he or she makes (at least that is what we expect he or she does...  That being said; I notice that lately being the best at blaming others, has been the goal.)

Even more so;The scary part is that he or she is even more responsible for the desisions not being made.

Every day I teach classes of teenage boys. They do not really want to be there, they just want to get done with it. Get their education and get on with their lives. I consider myself a leader. I have learned through trials and failures, and I have been trained in classroom management. I know what it takes to be a leader.

When people hear I am a teacher, I usually get the “Oh, that must be hard. How do you cope? Do you get their attention?”

Yes, I do! Because my students know what I expect of them. They know I prepare classes where they are to learn things which are, and will be, important for them. I do not just muck about. Time is precious and we do not waste time just to make time pass.

The difference between being a friend and being friendly is huge!

I would expect grown ups, with important jobs, to have the same respect and attitude to their work as my students do to theirs. When they come to us, they may not be quite there, but it does not take long untill they are on board.

In private I am no control freak. I probably am one of the most disorganized and distracted person I know of.

But when at work, I am given a responsibility which I am paid to act out. My time and my person belongs to my employer. If I do not do my job it is like buying carrots in a store and go home with a bag full of chocolates. Very nice (and everybody who knows me can relate to this analogy, cause I just adore chocolate!), but not all that suitable for dinner... except for dessert, perhaps.

The thing is; if we only eat desserts, all the time, we end up being unhealthy and unfit for fight.

I wonder if many leaders, with great cvs, let their subordinates run their own comfortable show, eating desserts.

a shopping phenomenon...

I really don’t like shopping. I just get too frustrated when things do not fit or I can’t find what I am looking for. The endless search, wandering from shop to shop, tax my energy and patience.



...proves women have more fun....?

 I know that many, if not most, go shopping for recreational reasons. They wander about in shopping centres and small boutiques, just to scout for something nice which could be added to their wardrobe, home or workshop. They spend several blessed hours considering buying that one perfect item. They study every interesting object and consider design, fit, colour and brand just to make sure it matches what they already have. Or, they wonder what else they should get to match this new purchase.

It must be wonderful to forget about time and chores and just shuffle about, with no specific direction in mind, other than what catches your eyes.

Some have specific shops they just have to check out, because they feel the style or image of that place fits their lifestyle.

Some have no other goal than to discover the ultimate bargain, others want another item of a certain brand. Maybe another screwdriver, the 184^th of an ongoing  increasing collection, is what feels absolutely necessary to get hold of.

For the most part I shop online, but now and again it is necessary for me to go to a store and get what I need. Yes: need.

I have promised myself that while my project on getting rid of clutter in my house is in progress, I am not going to buy anything which does not serve the purpose of creating order.

However, there are exeptions, and one store I take time to slow down and observe people, is IKEA.

Even though IKEA has expanded their  range of goods to include note pads, bags, shower gels, bathrobes and other “have got to get”  items, they mostly deal in rather dominating things. Things and furniture that will make an impact in your household.

As I walk through the store, deliberately not picking up a shopping cart (without the cart I have to pass by quite a few intriguing things I deep in my heart knows are totally useless, but nevertherless intriguing then and there), I see people filling up their shopping carts with this and that... and a few of those.

Huge piles of glasses and pillows and another basket (to store what you bought today) and a fancy lamp to light up a corner (which doesn’t really have space enough for the lamp) and weird looking twigs to decorate the hallway; twigs which will nab the jackets and coats to everyone passing through the entrance door... but they look nice, once you have put them back on display.

I find the thought of people paying attention to the look and comfort of their home quite pleasant. The sense of taste is really outstanding, for most people, and when the price is affordable; they seem to find pleasure in making their surroundings look the best they can.

Now, IKEA do have full kits to equip a room, (luckily not everybody choose these options, or we would end up having a million homes looking the same, without any personality shown) but you still need to deside to get it, purchase it, bring it home with you and put it on display.

So, by the insane number of people shopping there, I take it that noone mind the prices, the design, the colours, the compatible capacities of the items, sometimes even the lack of useful qualities... what I do hear a lot when slowly walking by customers is: “Wow, that looks cool! Where could I put it? Where can I make room for this chair/table/vitrine...?”

And next time I see them, they are handling a shopping cart AND a shopping trolley. By now they do not only have a pile of items in one cart, but they also have a mysterious number of unwieldy, really heavy, flat cardboard boxes on the trolley.

When at IKEA,  noone really gives a thought to what consequences their buy will have. They pay, stop by the sweets and treats counter, to get a soft ice, a cheap pizza or hotdog... with soft drink. Happy, knowing they have been temporarily distracted.

How to get room for everything in the car is not really important... It is easy to borrow a trailer. For free...

What I do notice, though, is how many out there who complain. Not about the items, but about the disturbing outbursts of frustration which occures, when everything is to be mounted.

My answer to the big question....?

I found a long lost friend, on facebook, the other day. I never knew him for a long period of time, but there was something I recognized in him back then. I still think I understand where he is coming from... anyway; He asked if I had found the answers? Of course, when somebody asks like that, it is implied we are talking about the big questions. The reasons, the meanings, the whys and becauses....

The reply I gave was that: “Yes, I have found the answers to what used to trouble me”.

But after we finished chatting, on facebook, I was thinking that maybe that was the most self-indulgent answer I could possibly give. So much so, it must have come across as rather overbearing and cocky.

Of course, I both know and understand that the search for the meaning of life is, to many, a quest they pursuit their entire adult life.

And during the teenages we don’t even realize that is what we do, while we make desitions and choises we are not ready to make.

We chase what we think is what we want in life, and yet, for some reason, the feeling of being fully content is not achieved. So, we start to blame anything and anybody for our own lack of well-being.

To a great extent it is true, you know.

Through our whole life we try to do what we are good at. It can be kids, trying to behave the way their parents want them to. It can be teenagers trying to find their way into the future. It can be adults trying to do a good job. It can be people, in general, trying to find a religion or guide-lines to help them lead a good life.

And no matter how hard we try, it is so hard to find significant others who compliment our effort. We search for friends or groups with similar standpoint in order to get some kind of backup to who we are and what we stand for.

Some times they lead us astray and influence us on taking the wrong choises, other times they reinforce our stand, because we want their recognition and they are compatible to what we think or do.

We all have different baggage. We all have individual stories. We all have our achieved degree of selfesteem. Wether it is based on reality or a chosen attitude towards other people’s prejudices is not really important... feelings can’t be debated. What is important is that no matter where we are in life we need confirmation that we do well and that we are ok. There is no need to add the: “Considering your premises”.

To stand in reality and face life is hard. To forgive is even harder, but often that is what it takes to let go and focus on what is going well.

My answer to what used to trouble me is as following: There is no one answer, but I forgive. I do not have to forget. To forgive does not include a renewal of trust. Trust is something which must be earned. But if I forgive, I can let go, regardless of the other person still feeling bad about what he did or said.

Other than that I try to lead my life by the seven last commandments. Doing the best I can on that, I believe I can stand tall and have faith in myself. Those old guys really knew what they were talking about, and the seven last commandments tell us how it is possible to live at peace and in hormony with eachother as human beings... silly as we often are.

That being said... I am too confused to lie; I never remember what I said last, and end up painting myself into a painful corner. And that is basically the thing about all of them.

To have this guideline makes me able to accept others for who they are, without having to agree. And that is my answer to the big questions. Not really an answer, but a stand, I suppose.

Madness.

We sometimes use the term with such ease, when we want to explain something out of ordinary... usually when something occurs which we would not find normal to cause or participate in.

The tone of voice desides whether we think it is a good or a bad thing.

Some times we think madness is outrageous and the worst thing possible, other times it illustrates a fulfilled success.

I have been aware, for quite some time, that my mind works in a way which makes me come across as... not unstable or unpredictable or anything like that, but more... hard to figure out, I guess.

At least that is what people tell me when they think I should be told.

Anyway, today I concretised my own madness.

Not going to bore you with the long story, but the result of it, is that I had a lot of boxes filled with paperbacks. I stacked them on the floor in my office, and I never really paid any attention to them, other than when I was looking for some easy reading. Something I could sit down and do without having to think. Then I would browse through a random box, pick a random book and read it, for no other reason than to read.

I am not very good at wasting time, most of the time I multitask. But when I read, regardless of what kind of literature, I can focus on one thing, and that is the story taking place in my head as I read.

To read is so much better than to watch a movie, but I understand why not more people think that is the case: In my head, when I read, I see the movie, and I add details, accents, smells and tastes as I please... like a custom made film, just for me.

So, today I bid an era goodbye. Since I am on the mission to get a tidy house, where everything has its own place and everything is at its own place, I called the Salvation Army yesterday, and they told me they would be thrilled to take the books.
Getting used to the thought of letting the books go was hard, but I just could not justify the boxes anymore.
(It really is time to change your habits, when you buy a new book, and you realize it is an old edition (new cover, but still an old edition) and you discover this because you cite the text along while reading it.) 
Even less so since my son wants my office (which is actually an extra, tiny appartment in our house) for bedroom and entertaining friends. (We do not call it to move out, cause he has every intention of eating and getting his laundry done along with the rest of the family.)

I loaded the boxes into my car, searched the house and included stray books found  on the strangest places. By the time I was done loading the car, I realized that I, through the last 25 years, have read more than 2500 paperbacks, with hardly any variation in contents at all.

So, driving to the Salvation Army second hand store to deliver the books I was thinking: The only thing madder than buying these books is to actually read them... several times.

The best things that came out of me buying and reading these books, besides the peace of reading just for the sake of it, is that the Salvation Army will make a bit of money on them and someone (who may or may not really read a lot), will buy, read and like the thoughtless peace of reading, just for the sake of it.

Strange thing, though. In spite of the notion that you know how the story will end by the time you are half ways through the first page: The language in these books is often crafted and written in the most elegant eloquence I've ever come across.

“Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius, and it is better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.” ~ Marilyn Monroe

At the end of the day...

Now and again I come across statements like: “Did you ever have one of those days when nothing goes right from morning to night?” And I get so frustrated that I myself never get to the point when I discover that; hang on a minute, this is not one of my spotless, perfect days! This is a day when things go wrong!!!

I work within a profession where planning and going through with the plans, is a demand.
I have plans which deal with the full year, another one deals with the term,then there is one for the period of time involving a specific topic and at last a detailed plan for each lesson.

I am a mum with active kids, and after school activities fill up every square on our activity calender; a pretty confusing, flamboyant display on the kitchen wall. By necessity in plain sight for every one (who pass through the door) to see.


Of course, planning and knowing about what is going to happen that same day, week or month does not prevent life from happening all by itself. And we all know life can not be stalled, directed or in any other way adjusted to what you find would be a comfortable pace.

Let’s take leaving home in a hurry when the phone rings. A very common thing. Phonecalls (which turns out to be both important and never ending) at the most inconvenient times are more the rule than the exeption. Like when you put your jacket on, while wiggling your foot into the second shoe and it takes quite a few panicking moments to find the phone, because it’s ringing from under the stack of mail you have not gotten time to open yet. And you know that you are already late because it takes at least 23 minutes to get where you are going, and you have an appointment in 20.

So you answer the phone (how did we cope with only stationary phones again?), tell them to hang on a sec, get dressed, say you are back as you rush out the door and think for a split second that it is a relief to leave the apartment because, in all honesty, the smell of burned lunch still reeks(some times it is hard to calculate the exact time spent in the bathroom). You try to run between the raindrops (How come Donald Fagen walks between the raindrops with such ease???) failing with splendour, of course, and to top the exit occurrence you just crumple up as the car refuses to start at first attempt and you picture the next four imminent minutes when you try to finish off the conversation you are already engaged in, to call a cab, without brushing the other person off...

And then miracle takes place: the car starts, traffic is light, all the lights are green and you get to your appointment almost on time...

At the end of the day: the students do learn something each lesson. Maybe not exactly what I planned, but still.

The kids are fed, dressed, keep up their activities and attend when invited somewhere. And I... well... unintentionally I get complimented for my carried through, consistent style.

I just smile and say thank you... and know when it is ok to stop talking.
I never tell them that it is my natural haircolour, my hair is never brushed (let alone blow dried), my clothes have never experienced the blessing of an iron, I hardly ever wear any other make-up than mascara or that a good brand in nail polish is worth its price in golden seconds.

I hardly ever see other days than those days when nothing goes right from morning to night... but at night, when the house and the rest of the world goes to sleep, I settle today’s score and I always end up with the notion that when things go wrong, for some reason something good always comes out of it. Most times it is just a matter of perspective.

Quizzes And Authors

I tend to participate on online, informal tests. Not because they add to my wisdom or insight in my own person, but because they often boost my selfesteem.

Of course it has nothing to do with me choosing only subjects I feel rather confident in. Like food and music, and then I post my brilliant score on facebook just to show off how much knowledge I have in subjects of no importance.

A student ones told me: “You know just about everything, you always have an answer, and when I check on your answer online, they always turn out right!” I then replied that: “It has something to do with the nature of the questions you ask. I know a little about a lot of stuff, but never much about anything. My knowledge is great for quizzes and jeopardy but nothing else, really”. I am not, and never will be, an expert on anything.

Or, not quite true; thinking about it I am an expert on saying nothing at all using a lot of long sentences.  I hope to improve and do better, though...  some time in the future. I wish.

Since I love to read I often come across sentences I find just brilliant. Not because they are particularly smart as far as contents is conserned, but because some has the ability to use very few words to say a lot. I, on the other hand, often find myself rambling on forever about nothing at all.

The other day I took this online test about what I should have chosen as my profession. The result turned out to be: “You are an author. You like to have something to do. You have a few good friends, but don’t spend enough time with them. You have a fertile imagination”.

I am far from confident authors around the world would agree on the qualities and prerequisites an author should have. It is almost a disappointment if it should be that simple to become an author. I so admire the way many of them have with words, and think of them as representatives to the art of writing.

Author is to me a great word which holds a world of meaning. I so respect those who can actually put their (great) thoughts down on paper, and when I read what they write I understand exactly what they intend to say.

Then again; not everybody who call themselves authors are good authors. Some abuse the title to achieve some sort of prestige, regardless of how insignificant their writings are.

The thing is that “author” is defined as a person who writes literature. “Author” is not a protected designation, and everybody who writes, every writer, regardless of genre, can, in principle, call themselves “author”.

In spite of the open definition, fortunately The Vancouver Protocol states that in order to be credited as an author, each and every author on a publication needs to have been involved in the:

1.  Conception and design, or analysis and interpretation of data AND

2.  Drafting the article or revising it critically for important intellectual content AND

3.  Final approval of the version to be published.

 (copied from http://www.authorder.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=28&Itemid=47)

So, there is some sort of standard of credibility expected. That’s a relief. Or...is it? Somehow an unwelcome image is stuck in my head now.... you see; Through the years I have read quite a few really well written ladies’ novels and so-called chic lit...

No internet, no work done....?

I really, really should have been working right now. By work, I mean reviewing papers and writing a couple of reports from today’s meetings at work.

Problem is, however, the heavy rain outside.

No, I am not outside, actually I am in my den, feeling quite comfortable and cozy while listening to the rain pounding at the windows.

The rain is causing problems , though, for one or another reason I have no internet connection.

Now, I am fully aware that my laptop is an excellent typewriter, but all my documents are stored at an external server. My students’ papers are stored at itslearning, which is a learning platform accessed through the schoolowner’s server.

My own documents, and thereby my notes from the meetings, are stored at an external site, provided by my internet supplier... At the time it was a brilliant idea because I can access my documents from any computer anywhere in the world. I just didn’t calculate on the possebility of not being able to access my documents because internet was down.

I am a victim of the excellence of high tech.

Back in the days, when I went to school, there was never a question of technical complications getting in the way of theory and theoretical work. We always knew where to find pen and paper. Our biggest problem was our own will to start working.

We didn’t have computers, so means of entertainment other than schoolwork was very limited. Oh, we had our ways. In secret we would tear small notes of paper from our notebooks and write or draw creative messages to eachother. We folded them, wrote the name of the receiver on it and passed it along the row from hand to hand. Maybe we, in a split second of bravery, would dare to throw it across the room hoping the teacher would not notice.

The notes were read, a reply would be added and it would be returned.

Such insolence was daring then, now I look back and wish that was the kind of innocent game my students would engage in today.

Our schooling is based upon the use of computers and the use of learning platforms. Everything I and my students do is documented by being recorded there. It is part of the thorough documentation we keep on our students’ learning, progress and results... or lack thereof.

In theory it is great. In real life it is a nightmare. Social medias are only a click away, and so is the world. Most people would by far prefere being entertained than to make an effort themselves.

So, just now internet came back. I am online again, and I am to review a test: Checking the answers for copy and paste, then grade them and give them a feedback on what they need to do next time to do better.

I believe that if my students were to give me feedback on how to do better, it would be for me to speed up reviewing their tests.