Everything Is Material
I woke up a few days ago in a mad funk. Theres’s a lot going on in the world wouldn’t you say? What I wouldn’t do for a dull moment. How are we going to get out of this mess? I couldn’t motivate. Answer emails. Write a note or a word. You know that day, don’t you? Please don’t tell me you don’t have them.
I went into the kitchen for coffee and found hundreds of house flies clinging to cabinets, windows, walls. Really? Isn’t Covid enough? (The leader of the free world now one of its victims?) Not to mention fires, hurricanes, floods, melting, debacles…uh I mean debates? Adam said…”What’s next? Frogs and locusts?”
Of course, everything is relative. I’m not evacuated or in the eye of a storm. My lungs are clear. My daughter isn’t going into her first year of college during a national pandemic. I am loved. My friend Brendan has a rat on the loose. I’d def rather deal with flies. And at least they aren’t cockroaches. Those were the worst. NYC in the 90s. I found them in my shoe. In my scrambled eggs. Ugh. But I digress….
Anyway…Adam couldn’t get dressed fast enough. He bee-lined to Home Depot for provisions while I swatted at the little suckers with a kitchen spatula. An hour later he returned with traps, tape, swatters, spray. You name it.
There’s an art to swatting flies. I learned this quickly. You can’t just slam down on them as fast and hard as possible. You must gain their respect. Surprise them. “Swat” at them (that’s why it’s called a swatter), gently, swiftly and indirectly. Once you master this technique you never miss. Come to Mama.
Still it’s like Whac-A-Mole. Every time I thought I made progress, another mangy rascal buzzed by peripherally. One of them landed on my friend Annette’s painting. This made me very very very angry — even more determined to extinguish their existence without having to call pest control.
I was officially obsessed. This went on for hours. Yes, there was a phone call here and a doorbell there but basically I spent the entire day in my kitchen on a mission.
Soon there were fuzzy little carcasses everywhere. I imagine some of you want to remind me that even flies have souls. Knock yourselves out. Where’s the Dustbuster?
Check out my footwear!
I shared my fiasco with my friends via text. I made them laugh. Things were looking up. (I love making my friends laugh.)
You must be wondering: why does Shelly think we need to hear about her house fly invasion? Stay with me.
By 4PM I forced myself to take a yoga break. And during Shavasana — the 5 minute resting period at the end of the practice when I’m supposed to be clearing my ‘Monkey Mind’ — my mind was more active than ever! I couldn’t stop thinking about the flies. And how funny it was. The idea to share the story in this space became clear. Plus, I just could not seem to write about the elephant in the room and I thought maybe you could use a break from the elephant as well.
When I emerged from yoga the flies were gone (as mysteriously as they came) and so was my funk. Because when I have a story…be it a song, a blog, a poem, a melody…I’m happy.
You might have had a similar curious distraction (or annoyance) yourself recently. Well, life is what happens when we’re busy trying to be productive. And life, in any form is worth writing about.
Maybe I wasn’t supposed to be tending to career goals. Maybe, as my girlfriend Kristin pointed out, my dharma shifted. My raison d’être needed a break. I woke up totally devoid of my plot but those buggers gave me purpose. I’m most happy when in pursuit. And besides, it’s no wonder we lose the plot once in a while. Especially at the 7-month mark of isolation in our respective bubbles...yearning for some OPB (Other People’s Bubbles) and the state of our Democracy is in peril and not everybody believes that Black Lives Matter and we’re throwing water on our roofs in California.
The day after the invasion I wrote a song by myself in a strange tuning in 20 minutes.
So go ahead. Lose your plot. Let what happens happen. Tell your friends about it. Make them laugh. It will feel good. The plot comes back. Everything is material. You just have to be willing to tell the story.
**************************
Due to popular demand I’m finally doing a MasterClass with my Work-wifey, Suzan Koc. Check it out here! Gonna be FUN!
Oh and one more thing!
Don’t forget to check out my new vid of B*tch! Same song, different take.
Thanks for reading, my friends. Have a listen to my new album, 2.0 etc... For fun stories about how my songs came to be get a copy of “Confessions of a Serial Songwriter.” If you'd like to receive my blog via email, please click here. Follow me on Twitter and Insta. Visit my Serial Songwriter Facebook Page. Stay Safe! ☮️