One Measure at a Time

My Papa Jack (92) told me today that Yo Yo Ma was asked how he could create such spectacular, complex, rich musical experiences. "One Measure at a time" was the response. Papa Jack was explaining how musicians can tackle major works, but I understood it as an apt metaphor to the complexity of our lives.

Sometimes I wonder how I can balance so much: four small kids, unstable ex, monumental financial pressure, startup ventures, hundreds of employees, nail-biting financings, social life, friends and family. The truth is when I step back to tackle the whole symphony, I cannot do it: cacauphony ensues, head spins, vertigo. But when I attack life one measure at a time (not a single step, not a page, but a measure-- a set of notes still difficult to play but firmly within my grasp), I thrive. Looking back a page or two, I can see the measures as music well played, and even as I concentrate on the measure at hand I can hear the larger piece taking shape.

Time Warp

While the rest of us are worrying about the fate of Brad and Jen, the world's greatest physicists and mathematicians continue the quest to harmonize notions of quantum mechanics and gravity. Problem is: the more these braniacs discover, the wackier things get. In fact, according to the latest research none of us may exist at all (Brad and Jen excepted of course). I find this quite annoying.

String theory, teleporting random particles, vibrating twisted time/space foam... I have a hard enough time following directions to a local restaurant let alone internalizing the idea that our perception of physical existence and consciousness is a cosmic parlor trick. This is a notion that goes far beyond the idea of a random circumstantial existence. Suddenly existentialsm (the ultimate sad-sack philosophy) is the optimistic big brother. The new kid in town, nexistentialism, says not only doesn't tbis life add up to a hill of beans, but the damn hill isn't even there.

At least with the non-quantum side of things, one can at least grasp what the heck is going on, kinda sorta. For instance the idea that time is relative to the observer and a clock will move slower at high speed in relation to a clock at rest on Earth: well, lo and behold, we can actually test that. A Russian Cosmonaut has aged a 50th of a second slower, for instance, on a recent jaunt into space. That means that someday, one can envision terminally ill people deciding to take a trip into space that to them feels like a month, but when they return they can meet their grown children.