I listened to an On Being episode with composer Mohammed Fairouz, and immediately after listening to the edited version I listened to the unedited version, which was even better. Mohammed Fairouz is not a man I’d never heard of before, and I am glad that has been rectified.
He has a lovely positive outlook on the future, stating in no uncertain terms that he thinks the world will soon become a better place. Since I also hold that view, hard as it may be to stick to sometimes, given the barrage of negative news flowing all around, I exhale, and feel my body go a bit soft, relaxed, knowing there are many more people devoted to the same aspiration.
I’m going to say something that you may think me crazy to say. But I believe that the future is extremely bright. I believe that the future is hopeful. And I think that this generation is absolutely committed to making the world a better place. And I think they have the means to do it. And I think that if the world does not become a better place by the time that I’m 50 or 60, we have no one to blame but ourselves. We have the will. We have the drive.
– Mohammed Fairouz
It’s an episode that span large and far, in time, in space. Mohammed has a beautiful language, and I love the flow of the conversation. Mohammed says something which I’ve never heard and honestly never thought about. But it hit home somehow, and I’ve reflected upon it since I heard it. I believe there’s something there.
”Where”, you ask?
I reply ”Here”, and give you this:

Poetic tools. Isn’t that just a wonderful way to look at it? Poetic tools, do I even have any? I’m not sure I do. When spoken about this way, I sure get an urge to get myself some, don’t you?

I am left with one lingering thought, which is likely the most naive stance to take, but yet, it’s my stance:
A lethal absence of hope.
One of the episodes is on courage
One of the take away’s for me from this podcast is the ever-changing nature of relationships, and that it’s actually a sign of a good relationship, that it is constantly changing, growing, evolving. And you know why? Because life in itself is constantly changing – nothing is permanent. We have somehow gotten tricked into believing it is, or should be, but in reality, life is dependent on change, changing thoughts, changing needs, changing mental states, changing relationships. So how could we ever believe that any one person, or any one relationship, could be permanent? Is it a need for safety and security that have warped somehow? Perhaps due to the loss of the local community,
As the credits are rolling at the end of the movie,
when I didn’t feel like walking in silence.