Are there any former piano students among my Gentle Readers? Those of you who had to endure piano lessons in your youth will be familiar with a fiendish device called a metronome. That Satanic contrivance was supposed to teach us to respect the time signatures in the pieces we were learning. Get out of sync with the metronome’s peremptory beat and get rapped across the knuckles – usually those on your left hand – until you could catch up again.
I grew to hate that device. I felt that it was holding me back. But then, I’ve always been in something of a hurry.
The metronome’s beat was only the most obtrusive of the cadences we learned to respect. There were others that came more “naturally:” the rising and setting of the sun; the regularity of mealtimes; the start and end times of school, and later, of work; the schedule of TV shows; and so on. People have adapted to those cadences for centuries, and have seldom thought much about them. But just this morning one such cadence has been disturbed, which is the justification for this screed.
When a habitual cadence “jitters,” such that one is briefly “out of step,” it can disturb other things as well. This morning I rose when my bedside clock said it was 4:00 AM. But upon rising I realized that today is “Fall-Back Sunday,” when the nation reverts from Daylight Savings Time to Standard Time. Grumble; time to reset all the BLEEP!ing clocks built into all our BLEEP!ing digital devices. When will this madness end, anyway?
But that’s just what got me thinking about this subject. What followed was a somewhat more unsettling question.
Which of the cadences by which our lives are structured are inescapable? Which are chosen by those who prefer them? And which are imposed upon us by forces we cannot hope to oppose?
Most people allow their lives to be rhythmically structured. Some, personally disinclined to be ruled by any metronome, refuse to respect any beat. World Chess Champion Emanuel Lasker was like that: he declared himself unwilling to be “tyrannized by Time.” He ate and slept when he pleased, regardless of the hour. His disdain for all schedules caused him some grief during tournaments.
We the Cadenced view such individuals as disturbances. Those such who are important to us seem to compel us to conform to their atemporal idiosyncrasies. That’s not really the case, of course, but the way our cadences bind us can distort our perspectives.
Yet there are lessons to be learned from the clash between us who strive to keep to the beat and those who disregard it.
Today is All Souls Day, the third day of the All Saints Triduum. Today, Catholics pray for the relief of our departed who, at their passing from this life, were deemed to require purification in Purgatory before they can enter heaven. I have no idea what percentage of souls ultimately bound for heaven must suffer for a time in that “waiting area.” At a guess, it would be nearly everyone who dies without mortal sins on his soul. We are sinners, after all, and even those of us who manage to avoid (or expiate) all mortal sin probably die carrying some spiritual burden. Those who loved us in life are supposed to pray that our term in Purgatory will be short, for once we’re there, we cannot pray for ourselves.
That’s only one of the reasons to cultivate the love and good will of others while we live, but if you’ll pardon the phrasing, it’s a damned good one.
All Souls Day comes regularly on November 2 each year. That’s the Church’s decision rather than our own. It’s only a reminder, really. Why shouldn’t we pray for the release of our departed into heavenly bliss every day of the year? But of course, human memory is fallible. The living are compelled by so many “important” cadences that something discretionary like prayers for the souls of our departed loved ones can “fall off the back of the stove.”
Even so, it’s something to ponder, and not just on November 2.
I’ve lost people I’ve loved. I have so many things on my mind that even remembering my morning and evening prayers can be a struggle. So my departed loved ones often go “unserviced.” And every year on November 2, I’m reminded – painfully – that I’ve promised to pray for them yet have failed to do so all year long.
Once again in this Year of Our Lord 2025, the cadence of the liturgical year has reminded me of that promise. And once again I’ve resolved to do better than in previous years. Perhaps this is the year I’ll finally make good on that resolution.
Now if Congress would only put an end to this damned clock-shifting business! Please!
2 comments:
I like music. I get to see a lot of live bands play. Small bands, local folks, no one famous. Love the banjo, a good guitar rif, love the sax but most of all I love the drums. I can't play so perhaps I shouldn't criticize but almost every band in almost every song the drummer screws up the beat. I might be just once or half a dozen times in a single song but it is there if you pay attention. Often they start too fast and suddenly slow it. Other times for no reason they do a bam, bam, bam, , bam, bambam, bam. completely missing the beat. It happens so often that soon they will be playing jazz.
I am reminded of a story by Harlan Ellison- '"Repent, Harlequin!" Said the TickTockMan.' I read it at an early age, and as one who has always had a pronounced tendency to do exactly as I wish, for as long as I wish, I agree with the tenets of Ellison's work. I drove my teachers to distraction, for they KNEW, (correctly,) that I was often NOT focused on whatever bit of pabulum they were spewing if I had no interest in it. And they could very rarely prove it, for when questioned, I always had an answer, having learned early on to read ahead in the text.
I am not one for order and set routines, but thrive in dynamic and chaotic environments.
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