Sueño en español

(English translation below, as much for the English speakers as the Spanish speakers who can’t understand my bad Spanish.)

Voy a escribir una canción — tal vez más de una! — en español para cantar mientras toco mi acordeón. Será como la de Los Alacranes, el grupo de Alemania (no el grupo mexicano, Alacranes Musical), quien cantaban sus canciones en inglés. Sus letras eran un poco extrañas; que es decir, eran obvias de una manera un hablante nativo no las habría escrito. Creo que podré traer una perspectiva diferente, como “The Scorpions”, aunque no escribiré de perras que tienen hambre de pecados en la turbulencia de un huracán.

Mis canciones serán de pajarillos y amor porque estos son los temas que yo prefiero. Tal vez, escribiré una canción de mariposas, tambien. Las mariposas, los pajarillos, y el amor. Tengo romance en el alma, incluso cuando no existe en la vida actual…y casi nunca existe (ser honesta). Es como una fantasma que se siente pero pocas veces se ve. Y ahora, estoy triste y llena de melancolía por tantos pensamientos.

Hace muchos años yo escribí muchos poemas en español. En esos días, estudiaba la literatura tradicional española, y estaba aprendiendo a reconocer las formas de la poesía tradicional. Por eso, escribí unos romances y sonetos y unas decimas, letrillas, etcetera. Estas formas no se pierden en la niebla de la vida diaria, claramente no. ¡Mentirosa! Por el contrario, se pierden, pero puedo encontrarlas de nuevo. ¡Ahora, es el año del acordeón y de encontrar la poesía y de escribir español muy malo!

I’m going to write a song — perhaps more than one! — in Spanish to sing while I play my accordion. It will be like that of The Scorpions, the group from Germany (not the Mexican group, Alacranes Musical), who sang their songs in English. Their lyrics were a little strange; that is to say, they were obvious in way a native speaker wouldn’t have written them. I believe that I’ll be able to bring a different perspective, like The Scorpions, even though I won’t write about bitches that are hungry for sin in the turbulence of a hurricane.

My songs will be about little birds and love because these are the subjects I prefer. Perhaps, I will write about butterflies, too. Butterflies, little birds, and love. I have romance in my soul, even when it doesn’t exist in real life…and it almost never exists (to be honest). It is like a ghost that is felt but rarely seen. And now, I’m sad and full of melancholy because of such thoughts.

Years ago, I wrote numerous Spanish poems. In those days, I was studying traditional Spanish literature, and I was learning to recognize the traditional Spanish forms of poetry. Because of that, I wrote some decimas, sonetos, letrillas, etcetera. These forms aren’t lost in the fog of daily life, clearly not. Liar! On the contrary, they are lost, but I can find them again. Now, it’s the year of the accordion and of finding poetry and writing really awful Spanish!

Organization!

If it seems that I’m trying to write more on my blog, yes, I have been. I get overwhelmingly busy, and this is the first to go. I no longer wish that to be the case. As today is a day off, and I’m being lazy more than I am productive, I thought I would write a simple note here on productivity. It happens through A. hard work and B. organization.

I’ve long been organized with my exercise routine. I walk for 30 minutes every evening, and do a focused exercise for 30 minutes in the morning. I follow a routine: cardio, strength, stability, repeat. That makes 6 workouts a week, with Sunday reserved for one long, relaxing walk only. This combination, which has some overlap — e.g., some stability workouts are combinations of cardio plus balance and standing abs — works. I’m only exercising an hour a day, but my organization keeps me fit.

As I’m staring at my laptop from the office shed I rarely have time to use, I’m wondering why I can’t apply this kind of organization to finishing my current novel or playing the accordion. To be fair, I subscribed to the Acordeonisticos website to try to create a more focused approach than playing an hour a day of whatever I feel like playing. But I’m still prone to playing whatever I feel like playing, even after subscribing. I need a focused plan! An example might be: music theory, practice old songs, learn a new song, repeat, with Sunday my anything-goes day.

Re writing, my organization amounts to writing 1000 words a day. This is an extremely disorganized plan. I need those 1000 words to be focused. I need to do more mapping and editing. My mapping exists, but it is very slapdash. I will provide a pic, so you can see how slapdash it is. I will also provide a pic of my beloved office that awaits me, a dusty place shut up most days because I have an office at the parish I use 45 hours a week. But I can’t use that office to write; my only shot at that is to sit in the office kitchen on my lunch hour and slam out a few words.

I’m not one for outlining. It gives me the horrors and bad memories from failing at English class in my childhood. I probably should have paid more attention to it. I need to start outlining. Following an outline is the only way to write a book, unlike the pattern of threes that could work for music, as it does for exercise.

My book mapping.
My shed, with Jesus as the Good Shepherd and a poster from one of my favorite films.

SCIENCE TODAY!

Maybe some lightning bolts should be worked into my title. You think you’ll have a Eureka moment when you read the news, but instead, you end up frizzling your brains on their magic bus.

I’m generally like a moth to flame regarding absurdist article titles like this: Study receives $3.3 million grant to address COVID-19 vaccine hesitancy among people with anxiety or depression. What kind of Suzy Do-gooders are the new generation of scientists, anyway*? But maybe it has more to do with feeling relevant when there’s a several million dollar pricetag attached to your research. The article went on to discuss how they would use weakened forms of disinformation to inoculate doubters against — I guess? — strong disinformation:

“The intervention will work the way some vaccines work: by exposing people to weakened forms of mis/disinformation, which can strengthen their ability to identify and resist mis/disinformation when they encounter it in the future.”

After this quote, the article listed several articles titles, and I genuinely thought they were providing examples of weak disinformation:

Examples of weak disinformation?

Of course, I did notice after a few moments’ contemplation that these were other articles on their site. That is to say, they weren’t provided as examples. They all sound too hard to believe, though, and I suspect that’s what’s meant by “weak disinformation.” The last article might have some validity, as long as it properly defines “overly processed foods.” Most food we eat is processed in one way or other; that’s what sets us apart from animals. Cheese, for example. Cheese is a highly processed food. Or maybe some weak disinformation is disseminated through ambiguous language, which would put the last article back squarely in the camp. I mean, I don’t know what they mean. For millions of dollars, I hope they do. And good luck learning anything from this article on what constitutes weak disinfo, as it’s mostly gibberish, almost impossible to comprehend — itself an example of weak disinformation?

Funny thing, as I spent my Friday night watching videos of Jose Torres El Rey de Alto Mando (accordion player), I realized I could learn as much from him about health as from science articles. He’s an accordion player, and he posts recipes of health elixirs. He also seems to enjoy helping and encouraging people, which is very important for mental health and the world in general*. Unlike many pasty-faced doctors, he looks fairly healthy. And if you want a good laugh, watch his La muchacha interesada video. Millennial-style cumbia? I honestly don’t know; maybe they are Zoomers. I don’t know where these arbitrary lines are anymore, but they do look young to my eyes.

Yes, I can bring everything back to the accordion. Just wait and see.

*The difference between do-gooders and normal people who help others is actually quite large. Do-gooders are controlling of and diminishing towards others’ humanity; the others are not.

Spanish, Dalí, & a Little Lorca

Christ of St. John of the Cross

Imitations or reproductions of Dalí’s famous painting are rife in the Catholic world, with an imitation in the office where I work. It takes me back to high school, when I loved Dalí’s artwork. Also, I had just started taking Spanish in school and therefore believed I could read my dad’s battered paperback of Federico Garcia Lorca’s poetry. These are related subjects, I promise, and not simply because I’m discussing Spaniards who, obviously, spoke Spanish.

We had to study a language; it was mandatory in high school. It doesn’t make much sense at that point, however. Learning a second language should have been mandatory from kindergarten onwards. I have an elderly friend at my parish who attended a private American school where they spoke Polish in classes. She still understands and speaks Polish to this day because of her early exposure to it, despite living in an English-only culture. I will never understand the English-only cultural philosophy. It’s not just xenophobic; it’s an example of my least favorite personality trait in individuals, let alone entire cultures: proud ignorance. Generally, I call this the Cult of Stupid. You can spot members because they roll their eyes and complain if you use words with more than two syllables. They think it’s snooty or some such, without recognizing the irony that syllables has three.

Could I actually read the Lorca book? Sure. It had English translations on the right hand-pages. My dad is not a Spanish speaker, after all. I loved learning the pretty vocabulary in the book, as it set me apart from other first-year learners of Spanish. I’ve always had a big vocabulary, and even though I failed pretty badly at English classes in school, I do have the ability to dissect words to determine what they mean. This gives me an even further edge regarding an intellectual grasp of a second language. It’s too bad this process often confuses words for me rather than making them clear. I ran into a funny example this morning. The word equivocarse and its various forms are related to the verb in English to equivocate. By the way, this might not be a commonly used word in English, but it is a common word in Spanish — like so many Latin words that have more than two syllables. In English, this word takes on the meaning of obscuring the truth. To equivocate is either for the purpose of being circumspect or being deceptive. In Spanish, it has the connotation of simply being wrong. I came across a video with the title, Estos policias se metieron con la chica equivocada… It took me a pretty minute, being in an English frame of mind, to realize a correct translation would be “The police messed with the wrong girl…!” My mind wanted it to be deceptive instead of wrong, but it was clear from the context of the video that the girl was innocent, and the police were the deceptive ones. Context is the best guide to learning a language, and so much for my intellectual, dissecting approach. In fact, although this is a bit of a digression, the only way to understand someone speaking Spanish to me is not to be myself, and to listen without focusing on any one word, picking up the sense from the context. If I stop to pick apart words, I have already lost the rest of the conversation. And unlike a language test in school, I’m not going to earn points for translating a few words correctly.

Lorca and Dalí were close friends, albeit I didn’t know this when I was in high school. I only knew I liked reading through my dad’s books, which also included art books featuring Dalí. I’ve loved Spanish ever since I was first introduced to it; that’s all I want to say about that. This post was meant to be about Dalí. But there is a point of overlap with my previous discussion that is much greater than my dad’s bookcases, as it’s clear from reading about Dalí and studying his artwork that he also took the analytical approach to life. He studied the master artists and picked apart the elements in them in order to understand them, and then he spent some time imitating them. Because of this, he’s known as a master of craft. When he created surreal art, he was playing with ideas that intrigued him. For much of his young years, Freudian psychoanalysis was a large part of what intrigued him. He met Freud; Freud didn’t like the surrealists and couldn’t understand why they were fascinated with him. He liked Dalí, though. He liked his genuine fanaticism.

Dalí was also intrigued by the physics of time and space. This in turn intrigued me as a young person. Beauty is timeless, and I will never cease to appreciate landscapes and portraits that capture the personalities inherent to people and places. But playing with ideas perhaps appeals to me even more. Another artist I appreciate for this is M.C. Escher. They both clearly loved playing with what is possible in flat geometric spaces. These two artists have a number of similarities in thinking, to be honest. They both loved the ideas they were representing and loathed politics. Neither wished to be pinned down politically, during a time when being a surrealist artist meant something political. Dalí was actually voted out of the surrealists because he eschewed Marxism and, especially as he grew older, defended Catholicism, eventually returning to his nation’s historical faith (he even had his longtime civil marriage “convalidated” in the church.) Escher was apparently part of a Christian religious order, as well, but he was as quiet about that subject as he was about politics. Dalí enjoyed creating controversy; Escher did not. There are other artists I love because they have an absurdist, intellectual approach — William Hogarth is one that long predates surrealism.

What about Lorca, though? I don’t know; for me, he was simply the first Spanish poet I read. He and Dalí were artistic friends, but Lorca’s approach was different than Dalí’s. He was a gay socialist, fitting neatly into the world of the avant garde. Dalí never fit in, and nor did he want to. He lived to a ripe old age, changing his psychoanalytic approach over the years to bizarre perspectives of Jesus on the cross. Meanwhile, Lorca was assassinated under a fascist regime (though there is some controversy regarding why and by whom).

Like Dalí, ideas are really what drive me forward. Because of that, I will probably never arrive at a place where I’m an artist at storytelling or making music, or a natural with language and communication. But every time I see Dalí’s crosses in my environment, I’m reminded that there are famous artists who don’t approach the world with a traditional artistic temperament. So, perhaps, I still have a fighting chance. By the way, I have tried to subvert the intellectual approach in learning the accordion, but mostly because I don’t have time to give it an extensive study. I want to live in the magic of the instrument and play the songs I love. However, I’ve determined that taking a more intellectual approach will work better for me, having the emotional artistic state of a gnat. So, I’ve stepped back to think through music theory. In Spanish. The problem with my accordion playing is that it’s always been in Spanish. Switching to English would not be a great idea now that I’m used to Do Re Mi Fa Sol La Si, mi acordeon en tono de Fa, and hearing ahora, tocamos la escala de Sibemol en terceras. I know what that is and can play it. If someone switched to now we’ll play the scale of B flat in thirds, I’d probably panic. Intellectuals just do not switch gears with ease, I’m sorry to say. That’s why we’re often labelled fanatics (see Freud on Dalí above). We get obsessed and taken with an idea and must hammer it out to its conclusion.

Speaking of El Diablo…

As I’ve said before, I don’t do social media, unless this counts. I listen to podcasts and accordion tutorials on YouTube, but I have very low desire to engage with others in the comments. Therefore, I’m sheltered from much of the toxicity in the world right now. But I know it exists — it’s out there damaging others’ lives instead of mine.

Imagine my lack of surprise that while I was joking about cultural appropriation here on my blog, a long-time writing friend was cancelled for it. I suppose I can say what her penname was, as it doesn’t really matter at this point. She was writing under the name Jessica Tescher when she invoked the wrath of the black romance hashtag folks on TikTok. She had the gall, you see, to write about a black couple in her sweet romance southern-themed books.

Naturally, she thought that she should write from the diversity that exists in the South. But this is not okay because she’s white. Whites can only write whites. She was hit so hard by trolls that she trended on TikTok for a day and now, to rescue her sanity or career or both, she’s shut down all her social media. Of course, white writers can’t win in this rigged game. The narcissists on TikTok have to get attention and harm others at the same time. Narcissists do that. They play victim at the expense of other people. If Jessica were to have written her series with no black romances, I’m sure she would be accused of whitewashing. I’ve heard that accusation, too. It’s a balancing act I don’t care to participate in of having a diverse backdrop to a white-prioritized book. The diverse characters have to be given voices…just not too loud and descriptive, so as not to pretend that an outsider can know someone else’s perspective. They must still remain visible in the background, however, and yet not be stereotypes. I don’t know why anyone would bother trying to please narcissists; it’s an impossible task that will get you nowhere.

When you can’t win, anyway, you might as well just write what you want. Write from a perspective that all people are humans who feel the way humans feel and love the way humans love. Write from the understanding that not every member of an ethnic or racial group has the same experience. And also understand that racism is real because people are hateful and tribal and will ostracize others if they perceive it will give them social credit. Most people have been ostracized and rejected if they’ve lived in the world long enough, even if it doesn’t rise to the level of oppression. Therefore, write from that understanding. Write about how hard it is to fit into a majority culture.

I’m not sure if TikTok is aware of this, but when observational people like writers try to understand the world, they are opening their minds and hearts to people different from themselves. This is something we should want. We should want more empathy in the world, not less. Empathy begins with you. And me too, but now I’m simply addressing those people on TikTok who haven’t expressed any empathy towards an author who was trying to develop an audience. She certainly didn’t have that yet; she was no JK Rowling that you just stuck it to. No, you harmed someone who had a very small voice. You punched down, in other words.

What if her book was really that bad, though and deserved the hate? I doubt it. I haven’t read the book she’s being cancelled over, but I’ve read her other work (published under a different name). But let’s just assert for the sake of argument that she screwed up royally with this book. Should you have brought a mob to destroy her, or given her honest criticism? Stop! I already know the answer.

I’ve long given up hope on people being reasonable. Most people just aren’t as a rule. It was a frustrating realization I had to come at about age forty. I’m not even sure why I’m writing this post, since I know people are unreasonable. I guess hope still lives inside my soul.

I’m currently writing this post on my lunch hour; that’s how upset my friend being destroyed has made me. Normally, I use my lunch hour in better pursuits, such as staring at the wall and thinking of that moment later when I can clock off, drive home, and play my accordion for an hour. Yes, I’ve changed my schedule such that I play seven hours a week. I manage this by playing as soon as I get home instead of cuddling my doggies and slowly changing my clothes for my evening walk. The dogs can listen to my music, and the evening walk will still happen eventually. One must have priorities. Because playing gives me great joy lately, I’m living day to day off the excitement of it. I’ve solved my chronic insomnia by replacing sleep with excitement! Try it out! See how it works for you!

I can’t wait to go home and watch the sun disappear through my enormous front window while I squeeze and extend my bellows. From my window, I can actually see the whole world! Or at least my tiny portion of it. There’s so much to discover out there that doesn’t involve worrying about cultural appropriation. Please pray for my friend, as the future must look dark for her at this moment. If she hadn’t already shut everything down, I would instead exhort you to buy her book and give it an honest review. Too bad she caved under the intense pressure — would I have, too? I don’t know. I don’t particularly like being visible. It brings up bad memories of childhood bullying.

El Tema Más Importante

I wrote several very long paragraphs on the Social Contract and then put it aside in my drafts because I honestly hate preaching about subjects such as this. While I appreciate reading about philosophy, politics, and religion, and how they intermingle, there comes a point where people are preaching and nobody is listening. Furthermore, nobody is changing society at all. Oh, yes, of course, one can change society little by little through the infiltration of ideas in schools and universities; progressives did this throughout the 20th C and are still at work today. But sadly, my post was triggered by irritation at the manipulation behind the phrase social contract…and if I keep going, I might as well just pull out my post from its place in the dreaded wasteland of drafts. Another tantalizing yet frustrating subject I had brought up in that post is my unpopular opinion that lowering the teenage pregnancy rate is not positive progress but negative decline. And on that note…

The most important subject is obviously the Gospel. However, the most important subject to this blog has become music. Accordions. My mind has been dwelling on purchasing a new one. After spending $4K on one, you’d think I wouldn’t buy another one for a long time. What you don’t understand is that accordions are like very expensive harmonicas, and acordeonistas need different keys. The one that died in the traffic accident was a GCF. After reviewing numerous norteño songs, I discovered that most are played on the FBbEb accordion. Hence, I purchased one. However, I would still like to have a GCF again, as that is the second most commonly played instrument. Someday, I will purchase an EAD because that one is also occasionally played in the genre. In fact, the master Ramon Ayala often plays an EAD. This confused me for a long time, as I thought EAD was commonly played, but I was being swayed by the sound of Ayala’s songs.

Apart from desiring a GCF accordion, I would also like an accordion with bass buttons that aren’t dummy buttons. Yes, that’s correct; my expensive Gabbanelli has dummy buttons. I suppose this is so that bass blocks could be added at some point; there are tiny tornillos that can be unscrewed to open up the left-handed bass side of the instrument. I’ve heard it’s difficult to persuade the company to put in bass blocks because it will create a weightier instrument with an altered sound. When norteño as a genre has a familiar sound due to the fact that so many of the musicians play Gabbanellis, it’s a bit risky to make any changes. The only way to have pre-installed bass blocks is to buy a cheaper instrument. Therefore, I’m considering purchasing a Hohner Corona II or Classic, which are quality instruments (made in Germany), in order to practice with the left hand again. Also, if the accordion is the only instrument available, and I’m playing for family or friends, songs would be more complete with their bass parts. Of course, norteño bands have rhythm instruments, so they don’t use the left hand anyway. In fact, one of my favorite online accordion tutorial teachers has a video on how to remove the bass blocks from your instrument for the above stated reason. There is already a bajo sexto y bajo in the group.

But that isn’t to say no norteño acordeonistas use the left hand — Celso Piña, who has now passed away, used his bass buttons in cumbias. I enjoy his songs because they have a different sound. I also really enjoy watching videos of him playing live. It’s exciting, the music infectious. He played a Hohner Corona, by the way. Believe it or not, you will even find musicians who play piano accordions in this genre. One of my favorites is Fidel Rueda. I don’t know how to describe his music, except as “sexy” but that sounds crass and doesn’t quite express what I want to say when his vocals, the accordion, and the brass blend together. I should probably make up a word, instead.

Speaking of word invention, there is a word for that in Spanish. It is jitanjáfora. I learned this word some time ago when I was trying to figure out what El Pávido Návido means. That’s the name of a song, and it disheartened me when I realized one day I had no idea what it meant, and I’m tired of my poor Spanish vocabulary. Don’t get me wrong; I can understand the music tutorials and interviews I listen to because they have necessary context. But then I’m thrown by a catchy song title. As it turns out, the title is a jitanjáfora. That’s either a relief or not, since I don’t know Spanish well enough to recognize nonsense rhyming words. Today, I will post pictures of the two rebel accordion players I mentioned. You can seek out their songs if you choose.

From Wiki Commons
This is an album cover; I hope it’s okay to post. I wanted an image with accordion!

“Mexicano hasta al tope…” and other not so random thoughts

The part in quotes is a line from Corrido de Juanito, which, as you know, I’ve been learning on the accordion. Because I listen to the song on repeat, I have it permanently stuck in my head and consequently sing it all the time, especially the line above. The funny thing is the line ends up sounding like a commercial when sung on repeat, por ejemplo, “The best part of waking up is being Mexican to the top!” I’m sure you can hear the Folgers song in there, no need to spell it out.

Most of the time, I live in my musical fantasy world, my favorite songs filling my head and keeping me going after my three hours of sleep per night. But then I will have moments when reality wakes me out of my sleep-deprived reverie, and I ask myself who exactly I think I am. I’m certainly not Mexicana hasta al tope. Because of that, some old college friends might call my norteño obsession and accordion playing cultural appropriation. Is it, though? Is it really?

The accordion is German in origin; the name comes from the German akkordeon. Mexicans appropriated the instrument from another culture, in other words — from the German immigrants who settled in Texas and Northern Mexico. This is what happens when cultures rub shoulders. They influence each other. It is unavoidable, or should be. When cultures share music, dancing, and food with each other, they tend to get along a lot better than if they stay suspicious and aloof from each other. There is much cultural snobbery and myopia when people get their hackles up over hoarding aspects of their culture.

I will never forget the article I read years ago, in which a Chinese-American woman claimed the bone-broth fad was appropriation of Chinese culture. It didn’t seem to occur to her that cultures all over the world might have been cooking bone broths for millennia. This doesn’t even fall under the category of sharing; it rather signifies our forebears’ mutual necessity to utilize all parts of the animals they slaughtered. The Chinese were not alone in this.

If I were to only play the music of my culture, I would play the fiddle or one of those tiny accordions popular with hillbillies and the Irish. My family was part of Irish dance culture for years, and I distinctly recall hearing the accordion playing the same jigs and reels fifty times over. I mean, it’s not a matter of recall. All those jigs and reels are indelibly printed on my psyche along with big wigs and bling. But alas, the Irish don’t count Americans of Irish ancestry as being Irish, and there goes my culture. Like so many Americans, I simply have a mezcla of cultural parts and pieces, which includes Mexican pieces because I’ve lived around them my entire life.

Is there such a thing as cultural appropriation in America? I’m going to say yes. I was thinking about this at dawn, having been awake for hours. My body was achy and sore and I thought I might like to do some yoga. I don’t do yoga, though. Oh, sure, I used to. I appreciated its efficiency in strengthening and stretching the body at the same time. I also argued with other Christians who claimed it was wrong to participate in another religion’s worship. They argued against it because yoga, after all, means yoked, as in yoked to spirits and gods Christians don’t worship. I’ve always found it a little bizarre when Christian churches offer yoga hours in their fellowship halls, but doing it as exercise in one’s living room, sans spiritual components, I thought was quite all right.

The way Americans practice yoga is areligious to be sure, but it’s hugely disrespectful of another culture’s religious practice. I’m not sure what hyper conservative Hindus, who still believe in modesty, think of Americans who do Yoga Booty while wearing pants so clingy you can see every bump and jiggle on the legs and backside, wearing the pants to show off the effectiveness of the exercise. The way we practice yoga might very well be what people mean when they cry, Cultural appropriation! It’s rude and offensive. That and maybe chintzy plastic Native American dolls and fake moccasins. Marketing off a culture we very nearly wiped out to extinction no doubt leaves a bad taste in the mouth of the extant native tribes.

Speaking of weird activities Christian churches get up to, along with showing off their jiggly booties…no, I don’t think they make moccasins or plastic dolls or even bone broth. At one time, it was standard charity in England for bones to be used multiple times, once at the wealthy person’s house, who supped on the richest broth, of course, until finally the picked-clean bones were ransferred to the poorest of the poor to make broth with. But church food pantries these days are more inclined to collect canned vegetables and beans than spare animal parts. No, the weird activity I was going to mention is doing counseling sessions using the Enneagram personality typing system. In response, Reformed-style Christians are horrified, despite the dubious occultic roots behind Enneagram.

There are no known accusations of cultural appropriation regarding Enneagram; I just find it amusing that Christians have latched onto it AND that more Reformed types are making a fuss of it. I wouldn’t care one way or the other if Christians didn’t have a peculiar problem with lacking self-awareness. They make lofty claims that we shouldn’t be looking to any other source but the Bible for help, but what they really mean is “I don’t want to know anything about what I’m really like inside.” In other words, they don’t want to be faced with their own egos. Obviously, the ones using the Enneagram are busy identifying with their egos, looking straight into them, but that is not to say that there aren’t many Christians who refuse to look.

I took the Enneagram once, at my husband’s insistence, as he found it gave him an accurate description of his personality. Modern Enneagram type descriptions are incredibly detailed, unlike the truly occultic horoscopes. This might be why some people have an aversion to Enneagram. It’s not always pleasant to read that you fit an archetype that isn’t 100% positive. Was the type I tested as an accurate description of me? Sure, it was…at the time. And I really didn’t like it; hence, it motivated me to not be “my type” as much as possible.

Being self aware is a good starting point for making good choices in this life; I suppose one could be self aware and still make wrong choices. For example, a truly invested thief could be a proud criminal. Or maybe in more ordinary circumstances, a person might learn to identify with their negative traits and never seek growth. Well, I admit I still have personality traits I’m working on. I often shut the world out so I can pursue my personal goals, which my Enneagram description predicts. That pattern of behavior is so ingrained I believe it would be difficult to change. Like my pursuit of the accordion, for example… No, no, I have examined my interior and decided playing norteño on the accordion is a good choice. A wonderfully positive choice. It had better be. That norteño style accordion I bought was really expensive. Plus, I love singing in Spanish. Here it comes again. I. Can’t. Stop. Singing… Mexicano hasta al tope. It’s somehow gratifying to sing a song about someone with an intact culture, even though part of the song’s sadness is the subsequent loss of culture in the US, loss brought on by Juanito’s children no longer speaking Spanish.