A reflection on this morning:
Unexpected changes to routine can be unsettling. But they can also be opportunities for unexpected blessing. Sometimes, the breaks in our well-laid plans are precisely “how the light gets in.”
Tag: Leonard Cohen
Good to Be Seen
I was at a reception last night for an organization I care a lot about (I also serve on the Board). It was a great community event, and it reminded me, again, that no matter how good it is to be in the flow of the creative process, it’s also good to just be out in public. People often say, “it’s good to see you,” and sometimes we say back “it’s good to be seen.” That’s not just a cliche. It’s true. It is good to be seen. And it’s good to see.
Like everyone else, I balance a lot of demands. In some ways, I’ve been trying to slow my life down. It doesn’t always work.
Two people shared very kind, unsolicited thoughts about my writing and my life in general in the course of conversation. They know who they are, and I thank them here again.
As one of them might remind me, with respect to Leonard Cohen, don’t fret about your cracks. That’s how the light gets in.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in
Doubt, Depression, Dread-Mornings of the Soul
From 2014:
I’m trying to write a new post about depression and doubt. One does not do this without referencing Leonard Cohen and Ernest Hemingway. I looked up some old posts for reference, only to find that I’d written this almost a year ago to the day:
I can’t say that my medical situation is exactly the same as it was then, but I feel a year better, at least, about almost everything.
Below is what I started with this morning before going back.
For me, doubt is never about the veracity of some narrative. I suppose that’s because the living Christ is the only thing I really believe in. I suppose it’s because I feel connected to the prophetic witness and movement of the Holy Spirit. Or perhaps I am drawn to these realities specifically because I can’t fathom the idea that the salvation of the world depends on getting this or that narrative right. I want to experience what Jesus experienced of God, and what his followers experienced of him. I want to do what he did. I don’t have time for anything else.
For me, doubt isn’t waking up and fearing that the stories we were raised on aren’t true. I don’t care about that. Doubt, for me, is far more insidious. It has to do with waking up and worrying that everything I fought for yesterday doesn’t matter, or, worse, would embarrass Ernest Hemingway. I’m talking about a specific, latent, and under-discussed anxiety that often turns young Christian or Muslim or just plain earnest men into misogynists: the fear of spiritual conviction as masculine failure. In the West at least, men are inevitably trained to worry about this. We are trained not only to believe that our worth as men or as people has everything to do with supposedly gender-bound responsibilities of provision to our families and sexual gratification to ourselves, but that the bald pursuit of both at any cost is somehow noble, right, and good. Spirituality (like nurturing) is better left to women. When we do pursue spiritual matters, God (God!) forbid we allow ourselves to cede equal ground to women or their equal standing before God. God forbid we affirm the radical hunches of Paul or the radical directives of Jesus. If we’re already concerned that spirituality (or anything not manifesting as apathy) makes us cruiser-weight chumps in the war of each against all, we’re not likely to admit women (or gay men, for that matter) can do that shit as well as us, period.
If you’ve ever felt this way, please know that hyper-masculine Neo-Calvinism won’t help. This isn’t about embracing a beefed-up vision of Jesus but about reclaiming an honest one. He fought the law and the law won. And then he won. On the dark mornings of my soul, waking up means having to remember that the radical potency of insubordination and insurrection isn’t just the point of Jesus’ witness, but of this “work in progress called life.” The point of life, as best as I can see it, isn’t found in the catechisms of J.M. Barrie, Martin Luther, or Ulrich Zwingli. It’s found in the life and work of someone like Jesus, killed for daring to free the world from the scarcity model.
That’s no small thing. It’s nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed of. It won’t net you a sports car or pension or the kind of disposable relationships we sometimes crave. It may, however, net you some life and in that sense, abundance.
Until the Sea Shall Free Them
Reminds me of “Suzanne” by Leonard Cohen. Excerpt:
And Jesus was a sailor
When he walked upon the water
And he spent a long time watching
From his lonely wooden tower
And when he knew for certain
Only drowning men could see him
He said “All men will be sailors then
Until the sea shall free them”
But he himself was broken
Long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human
He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
And you want to travel with him
And you want to travel blind
And you think maybe you’ll trust him
For he’s touched your perfect body with his mind.
Source: 365shores.tumblr.com via Christopher on Pinterest
Paul Krugman and Leonard Cohen on Depression and Depression
Paul Krugman Mellencamp has finally uttered the words. We’re in a Depression. His Sunday NYT piece, “Depression and Democracy,” is here.
Elsewhere, Leonard Cohen has shared about Depression and Depression:
LC: Well, you know, there’s depression and depression. What I mean by depression in my own case is that depression isn’t just the blues. It’s not just like I have a hangover in the weekend… the girl didn’t show up or something like that, it isn’t that. It’s not really depression, it’s a kind of mental violence which stops you from functioning properly from one moment to the next. You lose something somewhere and suddenly you’re gripped by a kind of angst of the heart and of the spirit…
– Leonard Cohen, French interview (trans. Nick Halliwell)
It’s hard to be hopeful about the world economic situation. But Cohen’s kind of depression — God, he’s right on, isn’t he, about there being different kinds? — the kind of mental violence, the kind that stops you from functioning properly from one moment to the next, the kind that grips you and won’t be shaken off without time and effort and help…maybe you see yourself in that. Unwanted thoughts, irrational compulsions, excessive guilt.
For years, I looked to Cohen’s quote and thought, well, shit, this is the condition of artist. I found out later that it’s also the condition of millions of people who, in addition to being sensitive, winsome, and artistic, also happen to not produce enough serotonin on their own. For many, such is the biology of general anxiety, OCD, and other depressions. If that’s you, please know there is help. If you don’t know if that’s you, please see a trusted physician and find out. A friend of mine said it best: “no one should have to suffer because of their biochemistry.” We’d never suggest a diabetic go without insulin. We’d never expect a diabetic without the right help to function in healthy ways, let alone thrive. Any physician worth her salt will tell you it’s the same with the way our brains process the presence or death of chemicals our bodies are making as best they can. Beloved, God has not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. A righteous mind.
Mad World: R.E.M.? No. Gary Jules? Yes. Tears For Fears? First.
People have been finding this post for years because Gary Jules sounds a little like Michael Stipe.
R.E.M. does not sing “Mad World.” Gary Jules does. And it’s a Tears for Fears cover? Those first two sentences are for the good folks finding their way here by searching “REM Mad World.” The third sentence is an admission: if it’s not “Shout” or that other song, I don’t know it. “Everybody Wants to Rule The World.” That’s a great one.
I was listening to WXPN tonight and they were streaming some indie band who said “we promised to learn a song by the beautiful Leonard Cohen for tonight. But then we didn’t.” Just last night a friend emailed me and said “I actually don’t listen to all that much Leonard Cohen (interpretation, I don’t listen to leonard cohen but I don’t want to sound uncool by saying so straight out.”)
This post is originally from July, 2008. As I add these notes, that’s over a decade ago. Everyone who wasn’t already a Leonard Cohen fan then now surely is.
This next part was an update to the original post from a few years ago, from whenever The King is Dead came out:
A few days ago, I heard The Decemberists talking about their new record, The King Is Dead. Colin Meloy was getting into the influences behind the album’s vibe and used the adjective REMy. I thought, well yes, “Down By The Water” is basically “The One I Love” with different words, more accordion, and Gillian Welch. Then David Dye mentioned that Peter Buck played on three tracks and asked Colin Meloy what that was like. Meloy said that Buck was really cool about the influence and put the band at ease by saying he learned everything he knew from the Byrds. Speaking of influences, I’m still waiting for a Wilco/Belle & Sebastian performance of “This Is Just a Modern Rock Song/California Stars.” Come on, team.
Chris Cocca 