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Re: What You Are
I like to read Dave's commencement speech from time to time from back in 2005 at Haverford College. I find it very inspirational- and I always interpreted this song's lyrics are what Dave was saying in the speech. But just in a song format.
Heres the speech for those interested to read:
"Thank you. I will now begin the boring lull after Molly Ivins. I was trying to think of what stumbling, stuttering things I could say that might inspire you. That was sort of what we were told we had to do, to come up with something moderately inspirational. And then I will rise, hopefully, to the occasion. You be the judge. I come from a family of fairly well-educated people, and I’m proud to say that I barely squeezed out of high school. But, while I could have been in college, I spent the four years driving around in a van with ten other very smelly men, and drove around the country insisting on playing whatever gig we could get, and we got some good attitude from it, too, and maybe some tidbits of wisdom. And I was wondering what I could say today, and I hope that the question I ask doesn’t sound like too much, although it will sound like a hell of a mouthful, but then I’ll try and moderate it by explaining myself. I’ve thought quite often versions of this question, “What is our obligation to God?” Having said that, I sorda consider myself in a way a non-believer. Certainly I don’t believe that I’m quite convinced in the same God that “Shrub” does, up there in the White House. I can’t imagine a sort of Santa Claus kind of God in his long robe-y pajamas sitting there watching us, making sure everything is happy and hunky and occasionally choosing sides like he’s watching a football game, and scream “kickass.” But I do find myself praying a lot, and I don’t know what I pray to, but it seems like I pray to the undamaged things, to the natural things, to breasts before enhancement, to they way that a child runs across the lawn, to trees or to a forest. I pray to those things; to the mountain. That’s where I think God might be at least: the mountain next to Mt. Rushmore. Although Mt. Rushmore is impressive, it’s not as impressive as it was prior to the damage done to it. So, what is our obligation to this God I don’t really believe in? I was watching TV, this is where I get wisdom, sorry I’m stumbling, this always happens to me, I’m going to be quick, I’ll be fast and I’m going to start talking faster, I haven’t had enough coffee. I was watching TV, which is one of the places I get my wisdom, my vast and deep wisdom. I was watching and I was bouncing through the channels and then there was a show, I think it was on HBO or maybe Link TV or something like that, it was on some channel. It was a show about a religion, and they were interviewing different religious scholars. I think it was about Judaism. There was a guy describing what he thought God wanted from us. I think he was a rabbi, or maybe he wasn’t, but I think he had a beard. He said that God doesn’t want us to be something specific; he doesn’t want us to follow a rule book. He made us, or God made us—I’m saying he out of habit. I’m sure he doesn’t have the tackle to necessarily be a he. That would be sort of pointless. But he said that God made you what you are, so why would he want you to be something other than you are. Why would he want you to pretend you are something you are not, because your heart is what God made it. And so, our responsibility to God, however difficult it is, is to be what we are. To be present, not to put up a façade that makes us feel safer. It’s not always easy. I’m faking it a lot of times. I wish I could fake it a little better right now. Although in a way you are more vulnerable and vile things happen to you when you experience joy, you get a mouthful of it, you know when you experience goods things. Because it comes right to you, you’re right there, because you’re not busy trying to make sure no one notices that behind that perfect, or average, or fitting-in façade is really what God made you. So be yourselves I guess is what I wanted to say. Be present. I have a little poem that I was going to read because I think that this guy was much more able to say what I said in the last five minutes—or ten if it feels like that—in just a couple of lines. I went to Australia and I found this poet that I don’t think has landed on these shores, and I thought he was kind of magical. And it’s May, and this is called, “A Prayer in May.” And it says, it starts, “God relieve the dark unease. God of valves untie my throat, and God let sink the weight of mind to the belly of heart’s content.” Thank you very much to everybody for having me today. So save the world now by being yourself
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