A stone from memory lane: end of junior year in college

Three years ago was probably one of the hardest school years for me to part with. For a large part, the 2006-2007 school year was a welcome change from most years where I relied on self-isolation to get by, and for it I have four friends to thank. [They will remain anonymous, mostly because I haven't asked them for permission to be named here; I do still want to write about this, though.] But each one of them helped me grow in different ways, most noticeably in social confidence. Granted, it's no coincidence that the first half of that school year I was finishing up vision therapy appointments, they in no small part helped un-paralyze my brain and allowed me to take in the things that surrounded me and actually be able to understand them. But each of these friends allowed me to grow and to communicate, little by little. I remember talking to one of them when the year was drawing to a close, how much better I felt about life and how thankful I was to have had these experiences.

What was hard, however, was that each of them were leaving. Three were graduating, and the fourth was transferring to another school far away from the school on a hill in the Upper Midwest. You see, while I finally learned to open up about things that year (beforehand I couldn't trust any of my personal life stories with anyone) and grasp the basics of communication, confidence, and action, there was still the small matter of dealing with some emotions when things would go wrong--such as, all of them leaving to go to places where I wouldn't have the chance to see them regularly (or in two of the cases, at all).

It's funny how perspective and new experiences put old experiences in a new light. May 22nd 2007 was technically the day I moved out of my campus dorm to return to Chicago for the beginning of the summer. But it was also one that would ultimately separate the remainder of my time in college from the rest, and to a lesser degree, the rest of my life to date from my life before that date. If I recall correctly, I said goodbye to only two of these four friends (and in reality, I think those two were the only ones I felt up to saying goodbye of all my friends that year). Part of it was because for many people (including these particular friends) I didn't want to have to say goodbye. I don't believe in goodbyes. I don't believe in conceding to this type of reality with the separation between anyone I know and care about. I hate dispersion.

The day after driving back to Chicago I wrote this post. [“http://amidthenoiseandhaste2.blogspot.com/2007/05/reporting-from-claremont-ave.html”] I was still very much in shock about the year being over, and fumbling with the beginnings of the emotional letdown that would soon follow. At the end of the post I wrote the following: [Yesterday while we were driving back (my mother decided to accompany me) we noticed a bevy of roadkill (deer, mostly) on the side of the road, including one in the middle lane in a section of road that went three lanes in each direction. I'd forgotten how much the deer population had grown, and since I hadn't heard too many roadkill stories since childhood I assumed that it just happened less. Such is life. [And I'm not sure why I included that last paragraph about deer in this post. Maybe I'll know someday.] "Reporting from Claremont Ave" (5.23.2007)] I think I finally may have an idea as to why I decided to talk about all the roadkill I saw on the way back. It was a metaphor for what I saw as the sudden end to the amazingness that was the 2006-2007 school year. At that point in time, it seemed like life was over, I would never again meet people as wonderful as those who graced me with their presences, and for quite some time it was my mood.

In June 2007 I had a telling dream, probably one that was trying to work out these losses in my head. Read here [“http://amidthenoiseandhaste2.blogspot.com/2007/06/dream-for-interpretation.html”] for the fuller synopsis, but basically I was with a large group of people, supposedly comprised of my best friends. While returning home from an evening out, the groups got separated into two and I went bonkers trying to make sure everyone made it safely onto the subway. They all managed to stay together, but somehow the train left without me and with all of them. I think I spent most of the rest of the dream utterly lost, another direct metaphor. [Of course, I had no idea how telling it would be until three years later, when I realized I had spent those intervening years in exile from God. For me, that's what I call lost.]

Back to the four friends: amazingly, three years later, I've been able to remain in touch with all of them. Two of them I've gotten to actually hang out with on a semi-regular basis when I was living in Minnesota. One I've seen once since their departure, and one I still have yet to see. I suppose in that respect, it's a better average than for which I could have dreamed of hitting. I do still hope to get in regular contact with all of them again, and to see all of them again (not necessarily at the same time), but I suppose it'll all work out. Somehow.

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Postscript: not too long after I graduated from college in 2008, I briefly had plans to write about each of the school years in nice little boxes. I'd gotten the inspiration from another blogging friend from a few years back, who'd attempted the same after he graduated. I eventually lost interest, though, and discovered that I needed to gain some perspective from the college years before writing about them. I've also learned that I don't like putting things in nice little boxes, and I don't like over-romanticizing things. I mean, it's just college. I'm grateful to have had the privilege to study music (specifically composition, but also many other subjects) and make friends, both of which I never really, really allowed myself to do before that time. But, as I've been forced to discover over the last couple of years, there is life outside of school; in a weird way it's actually been the best for me.

Above all, what I've found out is I'm grateful for the privilege to continue to be friends with people that I originally knew in other places. In my first year out of school, I had a small group of friends with whom I probably hung out with every weekend, and on many occasions I found myself saying how glad I was that we were still friends even though we weren't in school anymore. In it, I found the most important thing. For the longest time, I had been afraid of the end of college because of this inevitable dispersion that would occur, because said dispersion would result in severed connection. That is what had bothered me the most about it. Thankfully, due to new experiences with old and new friends, I can happily say that I can finally have something constant to enjoy in spite of all the unavoidable changes in life.

An attempt at musicology

Sometimes I get the feeling / That I won't be on this planet / For very long / I really like it here / I'm quite attached to it / I hope I'm wrong

All I really wanna say / Is you're the reason I wanna stay / I loved you before I met you / And I met you just in time / 'Cause there was nothing left

I sat here on my suitcase / In our empty new apartment / Until the sun went down / Then I walked back down the stairs / With all my bags and drove away / You must be freaking out

All I know is I've gotta be / Where my heart says I oughta be / It often makes no sense, in fact / I never understand these things I feel

Don't change your plans for me / I won't move to LA / The leaves are falling back east / That's where I'm gonna stay

You have made me smile again / In fact, I might be sore from it / It's been a while / I know we've been together many times before / I'll see you on the other side

Don't change your plans for me / I won't move to LA / The leaves are falling back east / That's where I'm going to stay

All I really wanna say / Is you're the reason I wanna stay / But destiny is calling and won't hold / And when my time is up I'm outta here

All I know is I gotta be / Where my heart says I oughta be / It often makes no sense, in fact / I never understand these things I feel

I love you, good bye / I love you, good bye...

--Ben Folds, "Don't Change Your Plans" ["http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/Don't-Change-Your-Plans-lyrics-Ben-Folds-Five/4327B8E999513C28482568970008196F"]

I've considered this one of my favorite songs over the years for many reasons: subject matter, keys, harmonic progressions, that 12/8 rhythm disguised in a 4/4 time signature, and especially that interlude in the middle where Folds takes a page from pop songwriter Burt Bacharach ["http://bacharachonline.com/"] with the trumpet part.

"Don't Change Your Plans" ["http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fFQ1HGau9j4"] is a sort of a parting love song to a woman who lives in a different part of the continent; however, each person's personal "plans" block the way, and neither party is willing to sacrifice for the good of their relationship. In typical Ben Folds fashion, each line has an irregular pattern and unique rhyme, preferring to focus on painting a scene ("I sat here on my suitcase in our empty new apartment until the sun went down") or a personal reflection ("All I know is I've gotta be where my heart says I oughta be; it often makes no sense; in fact, I never understand these things I feel").

The format deviates a bit from the standard rock song form (verse, refrain, verse, refrain, bridge, refrain). The first section of the song is comprised of three parts: the first a stepwise melody with a minor cadence; the second a melody composed of more skips (a couple of which almost sound like octave displacement), written in the major key; the third in the parallel minor, but with longer note values and more halts mid-phrase.

The major underlying harmonic progression for much of the song is the A-F#m7-G-Em7 progression, with a few occasional variations. The premise behind this particular harmonic organization seems to be a series of transposed echoes of the first two or three sequences. For example: G-Em7 is merely a transposition of A-F#m7, and in the chorus another such echo occurs (G/B-C) a major second below the original (A/C#-D). Most of the other common harmonies are higher tertian chords, most often in the bridge, specifically major 7th chords and an 11th chord for a cadence right before transitioning back to the last verse.

The keys that the music goes to in the bridge are the biggest variant from the predominantly A major/minor backdrop: C major (relative to A minor), and E-flat. The song rarely stays in these keys for very long, another common characteristic of Folds' style. The end of the bridge shows it with the following progression: AbM7-EbM7-Am11/C, suggesting that the harmonic progressions and keys are more determined by common pitches rather than a hierarchy of chords within a key.

The basic rhythmic idea in "Don't Change Your Plans," as author Todd Lowry suggests, is a slow shuffle beat, in which each quarter note in 4/4 time is divided into 3 instead of 2 like most music written in this time signature, thereby giving it a 12/8 feel on occasion, most poignantly in the bridge. During the verses the shuffle beat is only occasionally apparently, mostly in the melody over an accompaniment mostly plunking the quarter-note pulse. The rhythm slows quite a bit in the chorus, opting for half-notes and extremely slow syncopation (half note/whole note/half note over two measures). At the bridge the triplet subdivisions are the most apparent, with the piano playing triplets.

The biggest thing of note in the bridge is a lack of sung lyrics. Although the first half still includes sung vocal lines, they are more of an augmentation of the rhythmic buildup and harmonic change already in progess. The second half features a trumpet playing a pointillistic, diatonic trumpet part, as an homage to the writing/playing style of Bacharach. What stands out from this particular melody is that each note occurs on the third triplet of each beat, creating almost an anticipation of the next beat.

As I've said before, I've been familiar with this song for almost as long as I've been familiar with Folds' work. I suppose it was never my absolute favorite (mostly because songs like "Landed," "Jesusland," "Not the Same," "Emaline," "Smoke," "Evaporated," and "The Luckiest" have all had turns at the top), but it's been one of those things that have been on my mind the whole time. Aside from the intense harmonic and key progressions -- a style I particularly like -- it's a song I can relate to in more ways than one.

Psalm 84 and E major

Speaking of things that can go well together, I was inspired from a stirring choral-music-related conversation with a few friends last night to present yet another example. Somehow we were in the midst of discussing Anglican psalm chants when a particular psalm came to mind:

How amiable are thy tabernacles, O LORD of hosts!

My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the LORD: my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God.

Yea, the sparrow hath found an house, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine altars, O LORD of hosts, my King, and my God.

Blessed are they that dwell in thy house: they will be still praising thee.

For a day in thy courts is better than a thousand. I had rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness.

For the LORD God is a sun and shield: the LORD will give grace and glory: no good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly.

O LORD of hosts, blessed is the man that trusteth in thee.

--Psalm 84:1-4,10-12, King James Version [“http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm%2084&version=KJV”]

The chant that goes really well with this particular Psalm was written by Charles Hubert Parry. A stirring, harmonically and melodically-rich chant in E major, it delicately highlights the beauty of God's house/court, and for at least a shining moment makes one want to choose it -- even for only a day -- over a thousand anywhere else.

Not surprisingly, Matt Redman's "Better is One Day" [“http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bIq1j59R6tI”] evokes a lot of the same sentiments in both similar and different ways. They're both in the same key (E major again), have a similarly beautiful melody, and even some juice in each of their harmonies (Parry's is more noticeable in the harmonic progressions more than the chords, Redman's is more for the chords than the progressions).

Of course, the primary differences are that Redman's composition has guitars and drums and a solo singer whereas Parry's has a choir occasionally accompanied by a pipe organ. But having spent chunks of my life in each camp, I've been fortunate to have experienced both inward and outward spiritual experiences from these. I mean, I'm not going to rock out to Parry, for instance, but I can sit still and meditate; for Redman, I'll probably more likely to bob my head and/or dance. But still... beautiful words, and beautiful music all around.

There's a garden in the middle of a desert

I've been getting better about writing stuff down lately. A couple friends of mine at small group exhorted me to do so, especially after having seen visions of eyes looking right at me. Yesterday I was in the process of cleaning up my desk a little, and I came across a ripped piece of paper that had some notes from a small group a couple months ago. I kinda wanted to throw the piece of paper away (because it was ripped and jagged and had some other junk on the other side), but I didn't want to lose what I had written -- I therefore copied it into my notebook. Last night at small group those very same things happened to come up in conversation, and later one of my friends had reminded me that on the same night that I saw a pair of predominantly-bright-green eyes while being prayed for, I had also smelled honey during that same span. It was funny; I never wrote it down, and part of me can't believe that I forgot to do so. To be fair, I had a bunch of other things on my mind that I needed advice on, and therefore reserved the rest of the space on that ripped piece of paper for taking notes on those. But still, this same friend then asked me (last night) if I could be a seer. I replied it was possible; I explained I don't often have visions (or other arousals of the senses), but I also wondered if, because of my hearing loss, God could have told or showed me things and I completely missed them. [But then again, if God really needed to get something across to me, I have a hard time believing that he would choose a method of message-sending that would result in message-not-received. Then again, maybe I'm off on that.]

A couple Sundays ago I decided to go receive prayer again after the morning service. This time I was explaining that I was at a bit of a crossroads in determining how to grow both inwardly and outwardly at Vineyard. A couple nights prior, I received a thought (I do honestly believe this was God telling me): Branch out. Get to know more people. You've been at Vineyard for three months now, and you know maybe fifteen people really well. But there are many more people that you barely know at all. Go find more small groups, connect with people in those groups. You have done well, and your current group fits you well; but if you do nothing, you will fall into a rut.

That's the basic idea behind it. Since then I've begun to reach out to more people. Last Tuesday I went to a small group in Skokie, made up of many musically-inclined individuals. On Sunday, I went out to brunch with a bunch of friends who either live in the South Loop, will soon live in the South Loop, or are good friends with folks from the first two categories (during brunch I also happened to be asked: "so Nathan, when are you moving to the South Loop?"). I then went to the South Loop for some coffee and an unfinished game of Settlers of Catan. Then that evening I hiked it back up to northside Evanston for a dinner and some hanging-out with some folks while playing piano and ping-pong. Tonight I had a couple small group options to go check out, one in (where else?) the South Loop, and another in westside Evanston. [I passed on both mostly because I was so tired after this afternoon's interview that I took a nap for a few hours.] So I guess I'll be pretty busy next week, with the once-every-two-week small group meeting in Skokie on Tuesday, my regular Wednesday group, and then Thursday once again getting to choose which place I want to go (for now, I foresee alternating).

Enough with the tangents from the last week. On Sunday April 25, I received prayer for guidance on all this, searching and choosing groups, reaching out to various people, and ultimately if God plans for me to start my own small group (the reason for branching out in the first place), possibly as soon as this fall. The guy that prayed for me explained a vision that came to him:

There's a garden in the middle of a desert. It is mostly a green garden (with a tiny bit of yellow, red, and possibly purple), but there is an abundance of plants, and it seems to continually grow at the edges. I'm standing in the middle, not really doing anything, just... standing there. And the garden still continues to grow.

And then he told me the following words that came to him during the vision:

You're in the right place.

You bet I wrote it down.