Themeattics

The human soul can always use a new tradition. Sometimes we require them.

Pat Conroy, The Lords of Discipline

I love tradition. As a proponent of discipline in general, I guess that comes as no real surprise. Traditions are inexorably linked to discipline, after all – without the conscious effort to repeat something and stick to its purpose, that thing would never become a tradition in the first place. Tradition seems to have pulled a bad rap over recent years, though, and I wanted to take a bit to talk it up, even if I can do that mostly from personal anecdotes.

Before I delve in here, a quick note. No, to those of you that read Purgatory, this won’t have anything to do with Sacred Tradition I expect. Only dealing with lowercase-t tradition this time around.

We humans are creatures of habit by nature. Routines are comforting, even if they entail things we dislike. In fact, a way to get around difficulties with tasks is to make them routine. I think it’s safe to say most people don’t really like losing the time out of their day to go work out at first, but as they keep at it and turn it into something of a routine, it moves from something they might actively dislike through the “this is just what I do” phase, all the way, possibly, to looking forward to the exercise.

That’s all well and good, I hear you say, but routines and traditions are different things. And yes, dear Dweller, that’s absolutely correct. Some people tend to keep these things very separate, but I posit they’re really only split by the thing we’re doing. Routines are done on the regular, perhaps personally, perhaps between a few people, and are meant to get things done. We have routines for exercise, for when we do meal prep, for when the kids do their homework. Things like that. Tradition, on the other hand, is when we take the underlying meaning of those things and build it into something that can stand the test of time.

It’s a bit nebulous, but having dinner with the family at the table is an excellent example of each occupying the same role. We can have that routine – everybody gets together at the table at a set time and on set days – and it serves to have some family bonding. It gets a thing done. But, what we’re hoping that fosters is a tighter bond between the lot of us, and that they’ll take that same means to their families when they have them. That they’ll turn that routine into a tradition that helps them generally in the long run.

And, in the end, isn’t that really how traditions come to be? How they survive? There’s a spirit underlying them, one that promises a benefit in the long run. Those that stand the test of time have proven to deliver.

I’ve started one of my own recently. In addition to being a big fan of tradition, I’m also a big fan of games. That aspect of my nerdiness has passed on to the kids and, me being the kind of father I am, I’ve decided it’s long past due to play more with them. So, once a week at minimum, we’re playing something. I put together a list of every board game I have, set up a randomizer, and we’re pulling a random one from the set every time until we run through them all. If we stick to one a week, that’ll take more than a year and a half to finish up. And you know what? That’s great. Too short, in fact. I love when that day arrives, and even though they might not always want to be pulled from their time elsewhere, the kiddos have come to really look forward to it as well. The buildup to the day itself, the helping with setup, the rituals around firing off the random number generator and processing out the current game for the next one – it’s all in service of that most important thing. Keeping us close. Because, in the end, that’s the point. The cause for each of these traditions. Building communities and keeping them strong. Binding our humanity together.

Part of this love of games comes from my family. We used to do something like this, and I grew up with a slew of aunts and uncles that were big time card players. Every family gathering was filled with trash talk and laughter. Sibling love at its finest. I want that for these kids, desperately. It’s important they know we’re there for one another through anything. It’s a crazy world out there.

Each and every one of you reading this are encouraged to make some of your own. Maybe it’s a game night like this. Maybe it’s movie night, or reading night, or bike night, or Rosary night, or family dinner. What it is matters less than that it is. Get out there and get bonding. The more connected this world gets, the less we seem to be connected to the people that matter most. Let’s turn that around.

Hide not your talents, they for use were made,
What’s a sundial in the shade?

Benjamin Franklin

There’s a lot of negativity going on lately, and, if I’m being honest, I can’t say it’s without reason. The general state of humanity isn’t exactly striving for gains of late. I do want to put up a beacon though – a little lighthouse on the rocky coast. Issue a bit of a challenge to all you wonderful people.

I’ve written a few times in the past of my love of witnessing talent. Reading works from the greats, watching classic films, getting swept up in professional game play, etc. You name it. I want to circle back on that today because, well, I think more people need to do this.

Full disclosure, I’ve been in a bit of a slump lately. Still pressing ahead on things, of course, but the lack of progress and ever-mounting needs from everywhere have been something of a killjoy. The grind wears us all down, in time, and it’s easy to lose track of what we are, where we’re going, and the drive behind it all.

Earlier this year, I mentioned to the missus that some day I’d like to go see a Postmodern Jukebox concert. She, being awesome, took that to heart and wouldn’t let me back out of buying tickets for their show in San Antonio that just so happened to fall right around my birthday. So, we booked it. Neat. Something to look forward to.

Now, if you’re not aware of PMJ, they’re a big-band-esque group that does covers of more contemporary, popular songs in a slew of different styles. Some examples, for instance: The Weeknd’s Die for You done as a 70’s Bond theme, Kiss’s I Was Made for Lovin’ You done as a Spaghetti Western, and Kings of Leon’s Use Somebody as vintage soul. Just like the styles, they use all sorts of singers to fit the song. Because of that, I know PMJ concerts are something of a grab bag on who they have touring with them at any specific venue. I didn’t know what to expect aside from a good show, and that, at the time, was good enough for me.

What I got was something that relit a spark in me. I don’t think I’ve ever been in the presence of that much raw skill. It was easily the best thing I’ve ever seen live, and I’m not sure anything I’ll see again will come close. It was a masterclass in what human beings are capable of achieving – everything from the music itself, to the singing, to the performances, to the composition, to the hosting… I like to play at being a decent writer, but sitting here trying to stream-of-consciousness this post, I can’t begin to put into words how absolutely unbelievable it was. How beautiful it was. We were absolutely blessed to be graced with someone of the unbridled talent of Gunhild Carling, a Swedish Jazz legend who played something like 10 different instruments between singing and tap dancing, sometimes at the same time. She played three trumpets at once. She played a trumpet handless, balanced on her face with her head tipped back, while jamming on a bass. I can’t properly convey how mesmerizingly absurd it all was. And how good.

Not that these other things come anywhere close to that absolute showcase of human potential, but I’ve also been following through with my plan to get back to ingesting high-quality content. After I finish the book I’m reading now, I’m going to go pick up some of my favorites of the past and comb them both for enjoyment and lessons. I just finished watching two incredible tournaments, loving the display of skill, reactions, and training paying off.

I just love experiencing what we’re able to do when we put our minds to it. When we devote ourselves to improving. To fulfilling potential. We all have so much we can do, so much we can achieve, so much we can lift those around us with. What’s the point of focusing on the negatives?

So, here’s my challenge to you, Dwellers. Find something out of the ordinary, some place where you can bask in the glory of what humanity has been made capable to achieve, and allow yourself to do that. Don’t go in cynically, get your mind right, and just experience the best of us. Maybe it’s a book. Maybe it’s a movie. A concert. A sermon or tournament or maybe some architecture. Something. Find that thing that lights a spark in you and hold onto it. Let it light something and then, most important of all, do what you must to nourish it. Don’t let the doom posters or nay sayers or jaded masses turn you away. Love something special about us and, by God, try to add to it. Add to the collection of greatness that humanity is capable of achieving. Quit waiting on other people to turn things around for you and play your part in the revival.

Godspeed, Dwellers. Until next week.

You could not live with your own failure. Where did that bring you? Back to me.

Thanos, Avengers: Endgame

I was going to write about talent today. About the absolute joy that it brings to be awash in the tremendous skill of others. I was going to regale you with the absolute phenomenal performance that was a Postmodern Jukebox concert, and talk about the link that gives us between our humanity and the divine. But, you know what?

Well, you can read the title. It’s my birthday, and I don’t really want to do much of anything. I’m going to indulge the day giving into my worst instincts. Playing Dota2.

As Spider Man says in Family Guy – everybody gets one.