Meditations On The Trumpocholypes, Buckethead and my Piano in Ecco Domani

At the time of the Jan 6 rupture I was hot on the trail of politics. But all of a sudden no Republicans felt too hot about politics anymore. The overall sentiment in my community was “Well, we don’t care anyway. It’s not that big of a deal. Can’t we talk about something else?” That really put a stifling end to any political debates. I had bought Brandy X Lee’s books on the matter, but they were right in some demented slant on the word. I was ready to detox from it all, sit back and get some sleep with Biden’s stability at the wheel.

Finally, with 34 felony charges being flashed, and waved at Donald J. Trump am I feeling up to reading The Dangerous Case of Donald Trump, and Trump’s Mind America’s Soul. That, and I am working at a Mental Health facility now versus the glamorous, high stress Chef life. I have experienced such calm, and contentment in these last few months. I’ve cut out coffee, and switched to tea. I wake up sit at my keyboard, and play calming songs I know from my childhood rather than waking up with strong coffee, and obsessing over politics. I’m more like the person I was back in 20-12, 13, and 14: calm, content, and enjoying spending time doing the things I find important; able to shut the world out, and be satisfied by playing a song, writing in my journal, or just living life.

Reading “The Dangerous Case…” has lead to some insights into my own change throughout The Trumpacholypse. The first chapter, and Essay, Unbridled And Extreme Present Hedonism (Sword & Zimbardo, 21) explores “the Trump Effect,” and how one man can influence a nation. By taking time, patience, and calm I am just now able to unblock certain pathways in my mind. I can remember songs I played so oft in college on my piano. Prior to these last few weeks, there were 10 to 20 piano songs I used to play for my friends, and (ex) girlfriend that didn’t come back to me when I had purchased the keyboard about a year, and a half ago. And I know it wasn’t just me. My best piano friend from college stopped playing his music too. There has been some anger I’ve had to manage throughout this transition. Anger is a tool, and to unblock my serene state of contentment, the place where my music is, where my yogic tree of serenity is, one must manage the anger when those things are ripped from you. Logically, one has every right to be angry, but anger doesn’t re-open that door.

The Labyrinthine maze of life’s intricacies. It’s confusing, and confusion is frustrating, and frustration has multiple doors in the Labyrinth. How can someone invade a state of mind. How can someone destroy the door to my serene room, or alter the map you have through your mind-palace to get back to that space? The wonder, and magic of real life when one drinks deep. The Palace where few embark is full of enlightenment to all of life’s complexities, and wonders. And anger closes the door.

While, I have fought with the urge to sue The Trump Supporters who closed my god given peace of mind for so many years, the music I didn’t play, and love that was so hard to find; I am not allowing those feelings to block the door to my happy and content keyboard, friends, and yoga mat.

“When the sitar string is too loose
There will be no music.
When it is too tight the string will break,
And there will be no music.”

-Buddha

Last updated April 09, 2023