Tag Archives: composer

Dealt

Dealt: (v) the result of an action of what was distributed or apportioned

Prostrate on the floor, short moments after tipping on my walker and falling, I was suddenly accosted with the reality of trying to get up.

I thought about all the times that people had joked, “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up…”

Every time I saw one of those commercials, I was cynical, not believing there could be a situation where a human would be unable to, as they say, rise to the occasion.

I was not injured.

I was just in a predicament where the assets available to me—the lack of strength in my upper body and the faltering of my legs, were threatening to hold me in my original splat.

I was not angry. I was not upset.

Dripping with sweat, I continued to try to disprove what my brain had already explained to me as my reality.

“You will need help.”

For today, this was what I was dealt.

I was moving along with my walker, on my way to my music room to write to you and to compose my thoughts for the day.

Then I wasn’t.

Normalcy was gone. For the first time in a long time, the weaker portions of my human existence had taken over, demanding attention and insisting on leaving me vulnerable.

I tried for half an hour.

Candidly, the attempts to lift myself and eliminate the problem were much more painful than the fall.

Those beautiful souls who are my family stood by, not knowing what to do, perhaps full of ideas, but intelligent enough not to turn the project into a committee effort.

This is my status:

  • Life gave me a brain—I developed the ability to write.
  • I persisted in singing until it was stageable.
  • I played piano.
  • I wrote symphonies.
  • I penned thirteen independent movies.

I can’t get up off the floor.

Today, this was included.

Not despaired nor frustrated–more curious how this tale would unfold, and where there would be a happy end.

After tossing it around in my mind from one brain cell to another, I finally surrendered to the need for outside help.

We called the fire department and in less than five minutes, four eager, young, willing, kind, docile and caring young men walked through the door.

It took about five minutes and they had me standing back on my feet and then sitting in my wheelchair.

I bypassed embarrassment and went to gratitude.

I kicked discouragement out the door and embraced humor.

There was a moment in the room when achievement was celebrated, and we all felt better for being part of a winning cause.

You can spend your life hoping for better cards.

Or you can work with what you’ve been dealt.

Anoint

dictionary with letter A

Anoint: (v) 1. to smear or rub with oil, typically as part of a religious ceremony 2. to confer divine or holy office.

I’m not much for ceremony.

The rituals that normally happen in politics, religion or even in academia often leave me a bit befuddled and bemused.

Yet I think sometimes the absence of a sense of greater purpose being conveyed to our leaders and trend-setters leaves us with a mediocre cast of characters for the play on the stage of life.

So in that sense, I think anyone who courageously takes on the task of caring for other human beings needs to be imbued with some divine power or at least a sense that they are being energized by another source.

I know there are those who would disagree, and I appreciate their points, and understand they think humans are capable of self-motivation, without any kind of supernal intervention.

But as I view the stations of my life–that being a man, a husband, a father, a writer, a composer, a leader from time to time, and just someone who occasionally presents a new idea or two–I allow myself to become reflective about the urgency of taking what I do seriously and making sure that I pursue excellence instead of cutting myself too much slack.

For instance, our President takes an oath of office, but I don’t know how many of the men who have held that office–and hopefully the women in the future who will occupy it–actually have or will understand the gift they’ve been given, to lead this nation.

And maybe if they felt just a bit more of an anointing, they might escape the bonds of their political persuasions and take care of the people of America.

I don’t know.

There is something beautiful about laying hands on somebody’s head and believing that a gift is being imparted, one that has eternal consequences.

Of course, there is a danger of becoming over-wrought and self-involved mingled in there, too.

But as I want the President of the United States to be anointed for the job, and the ministers who preach the gospel to be touched by its message, and the fathers and mothers to feel a halo of joy over the great mission of parenting, I will set an example myself by remaining humbled, faithful and responsible … for my own calling.

 

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Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix

Aka

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

 

Aka: (abbr.) also known as: e.g.John Merrick, aka the Elephant Man

J. R. Practix.

That’s the name on my birth certificate.

But during a brief season of playing football, I was aka “Big Jon.” Matter of fact, through high school, I was “just Jon, without an h”. I often joked that I selected the name because I wanted to “get the h outta there.” Some people thought that was funny.

  • A tiny handful knew me as “the music guy.”
  • There were those in my town who acquainted my personage with “deadbeat.”
  • Aka “Daddy,” which became “Dad”–and on more formal occasions is even announced, “my Father.”
  • Aka “Studly,” even though that was used so infrequently that I’m embarrassed to bring it up, but still, willing to propagate the myth.
  • Aka “Composer.”
  • Aka “Vagabond.”
  • Aka “Writer.”
  • Aka “Preacher”–though I was never actually able to embody the look or attributes of a parson.
  • Aka “Musician”–though I must bow my head in the presence of the true clerics of chords.

Then came grandchildren. So …

  • Aka “G-Pop.”
  • Three of my sons were adopted in my heart as god-children, and they chose to refer to me as “Pop.”
  • Aka “Husband.”
  • Aka “Lover” (in generous moments by forgiving females)
  • Aka “Business man” (unless you look at my books)
  • Aka “Traveler” (Just check my odometer)
  • Aka “Human being,” of which I am most proud.

I realize today that I have so many names associated with me that if I had a driver’s license to match each one, I would look like a criminal on the lam.

And speaking of lamb, I recommend it … with mint jelly.