Musings on the Journey

For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, a shed session is where several musicians get together to jam. But it's different from a jam session because it focuses more on one instrument. For example the two types of shed sessions I've heard of are a drum shed session and a bass shed session (shed from hereon in).

So in a drum shed - which tonight was - you have several drummers, each on their kit, and some other accompanying musicians. And as the jamming is going on, all the drummers start off playing the same thing, and then each one takes turns soloing and then coming back to the beat. All this while the accompanying musicians are playing whatever groove, pattern, or song being played at the moment.

We went on for over 3 hrs! I recorded it and I have 3 hrs and 15 minutes worth! Of course not all of it is straight playing. I want to sort through it and post some of it up here on my blog, and do 1 or 2 short videos of the session on Youtube.

DH

And here's the last short creative piece I've written (for now).

The Shattered Life

© 2011 David H. Watson

He sat there in silence, the lights turned off making the room pitch black. The only sound that could be heard was his breathing and the faint ticks of the clock on the wall - tick, breathe in, tock, breathe out. And so the seconds passed, turning into minutes. He swished the glass in his right hand, hearing the clinking of the ice cubes and the sloshing of the liquid inside. He raised the glass to his lips, paused, parted his lips slightly and downed the glass. The alcohol burned his throat on the way down.

'What did I pour again?' He asked himself. 'It doesn't matter really, all those bottles behind that bar serve the same purpose; they make you forget your miserable life. But to what end? It's only a short time, and then you wake up to the same reality as before!' Sighing, he flung the glass against the wall, shattering it into little pieces. That's how his life felt to him - shattered, broken.

DH

And here's another short creative writing piece I wrote a few years ago. (Note the copyrights are this year because I forgot to add the copyright when I wrote these pieces and now I forget when I wrote them!)

The Runner

© 2011 David H. Watson

She found herself running for her life. She couldn't seem to remember why she was running, or from what was she running. All she knew was her heart was beating wildly, her muscles cried out from fatigue, and her head throbbed. She opened her eyes and looked around her. Lush vegetation, trees on every side, greenery, and bright sunlight greeted her. 'I'm in a forest' she thought to herself. 'What am I doing here? Where is here? And why am I running so hard?' She tried to stop, but her legs wouldn't respond. She was panting and sweat poured down, and yet she couldn't stop. 'Why can't I stop?! What's going on? Where am I?' She turned her head from side to side, frantically trying to catch a glimpse of anything that would tell her where she was. All she could see was the same forest, the blurred trunks of the trees whizzing by.

Suddenly she heard a voice inside her head, "Run faster." 'No, don't run faster! Who was that? Who are you?' She kept thinking these thoughts as her body picked up speed. Her legs screamed to stop and her balance started failing as she stumbled a few times. But despite all of that, her body kept running.

She started crying, her cries quickly turning into screams of pain and frustration. "Please! Somebody help me" she sobbed over and over, as her body became a thing possessed not of her will.

Suddenly the foliage broke and she stumbled into a clearing. Her body immediately stopped, halting so quickly she flew face first into the grass.

As she picked herself up and dusted off, she looked around and saw a tree stump in the middle of the clearing. And upon that stump sat a man with an expression she could only describe as love, acceptance, joy, amusement, concern, and a desire to help all rolled into one.

"Who are you?"

"Don't you recognize me?"

"I'm afraid not. I don't think I've seen you before."

Looking at her tenderly, the stranger beckoned, "Come, sit a while and rest."

'Strange,' she thought to herself, 'I don't know this man and yet I know he can offer me what I need.' She was referring to the peace and rest her body and soul longed for. Following the stranger's advice, she sat down with her back against the stump, next to the stranger's feet. She placed her head upon his lap.

"Are you here to help me?"

"Yes, my beloved child. I'm here to save you and take you away from this place. Now, rest your weary eyes and put your trust in me."

As he said that, she felt a warmth flood over her whole being. Soon she was sound asleep.

DH

Here is something I wrote several years ago.

Giver

© 2011 David H.Watson

As she flew, higher and higher, she could see it all - the valley below, the dry riverbed winding a lonely path. She gazed at the riverbed, and thought it looked worn and out of place. It was like the river had given of itself as much as it could, and now it was spent. It yearned to be erased from existence, but yet it remained there: a testament to the unyielding nature of life to take and take and take and...

Her thoughts migrated to what she was escaping from and she realized that people can be the same. Or perhaps it's the pervasiveness of death and evil in life that robs the givers of everything. But, shouldn't redemption and the infinite love and grace of God act as a never-ending well to strengthen and replenish?

'It does, my child' came the voice of the Spirit of God. I should have known this isn't a one-sided conversation, she responded back. 'Of course not; I love you too much to leave you alone.' Ok, she thought, how does it act as an infinite well Daddy? And why does it seem like the givers just get sucked dry over time? 'My love is a well, my beloved, but you need to learn to draw from it to be replenished. And as you learn to draw from my well, there will be moments where you've given of yourself but not replenished, and in those moments you will feel like the riverbed - worn and spent; used and at times abused. But you will come to a point where you draw simultaneous to you pouring out yourself. ‘

‘At that point, giving will become easier.' 

DH

The other day I was in the shower and God reminded me of Philippians 3:12b, "but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me," and Philippians 3:13b-14, "but one thing I do: forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."

Today I was meeting a friend for coffee and he remarked how when we hold onto negative experiences of our past, we give them control over us in the present.

So I think God is telling me to forget the past. Or at least learn to let go of the past, especially any negative experiences of the past. And this includes both long-term and short-term past!

So Jesus, help me to release my past to you, including the tomorrows as they become yesterdays.

DH

Some churches, I've noticed, focus more on the fact that God loves them over how wretched we are. It's not that these churches don't recognize the human condition and our sinful natures. But if I were to create a spectrum of faith focus, with God's love being one end and our sinfulness being the other end, these churches would lie at a 60/40 or 80/20 split towards the God's love end.

While other churches focus more on our sinfulness. On the spectrum I created they would lie at a similar (60/40 or 80/20) split but toward the our sinfulness end. As with the other type of churches it's not that these churches only focus on how wretched we are. The response to recognizing our wretchedness is to then recognize how merciful and loving God is.

But it's all in the balance - how much time of your thoughts and subsequent words and actions revolve around us being wretched, sinful people, and how much revolve around God loving us and wanting to have a relationship with us?

Sole focus on my being loved and accepted by God can possibly cause me to lose sight of how I actually am unworthy of salvation. That is, I have done nothing of my own merit to deserve salvation. But sole focus on my sinfulness can possibly lead to missing out on the joy and abundant life God wants me to experience through relationship with Him. After all, Jesus considered (and considers) me worthy enough to die for me. And I am made in the image of God, even if that image has been tarred because of sin.

Maybe I've created a split and thus food for thought where no such tension actually exists. Or maybe the body of Christ in general hasn't got this all figured out yet.

My perspective on this is coming from one who grew up not feeling fully affirmed and loved. And for someone who struggles with those types of vulnerabilities, a church that focuses more on God's love is like rain to the man who has just crossed the Sahara Desert. Conversely a church that focuses more on our wretchedness is like adding fuel to the fire of those inner insecurities.

DH

I am dEhiN (with that specific spelling). More specifically my current, self-appointed, self-created pseudonym is dEhiN.

It all started about 3-4 years ago when I got started into music production and was also on a band called Palm Sway. I decided to create a stage name. I picked dEhiN as a merging of my full name - David Hiran Watson.

Now dEhiN has become my stage name for some things and a general pseudonym for other things. I say general pseudonym because, according to the dictionary, a pseudonym is technically a pen name a writer writes under. Like Mark Twain for Samuel Clemens.

At first I used dEhiN as both a stage name for my own musical compositions and a pseudonym for my works of creative writing. But now all my screenplays and scripts are penned by David H. Watson. And my musical compositions are released by David H. Watson. (Well, since none have actually been released, any that will be in future).

But my entertainment company, which I plan to release any creative ventures under, is dEhiN Entertainment. And my blog used to be dEhiN's Blog, although that's of course now changed.

So now you know more about the name dEhiN. By the way, dEhiN is pronounced with the stress on the second syllable. So "de" like in "death" and "hin" like in "hindrance".

DH

This is my first post here at "Musings on the Journey" (MOTJ for short). I used to have a blog at Wordpress.com: dEhiN's Blog. But I decided to start something new. I hope to make this more than just a blog, that is a weblog. As you can see from the blurb about this space, I plan to post whatever comes to mind. For those who are coming over from my old blog, welcome.

DH