Tag: musings

Open a Book

Open a book, go on an adventure. You don’t leave home, you don’t walk a road. But you go on a journey just the same, to places near and far, betwixt and between.

The past and future, earth and space, ruins and utopias, worlds both alien and familiar. The lives of great kings and scientists and heroes stretch out before you. Hear their words, see inside their minds.

Indeed, you go everywhere, do everything, see everyone. A universe of words is revealed to you. Travel here and there, hither and thither, as much as you can stand.

And at the end of the journey, you come back home, and realize you never left your chair.

Such is the wonder of opening a book.

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Over the Next Hill: Tribute to Mankind’s Curiosity

The history of humanity is the history of crossing over the next hill.

Where are we without curiosity? Caves and mud huts. One day, someone steps outside with a mind filled with questions. What is over that next hill? What is in that valley? What is beyond that forest? Anther follows, and another. Further afield we walk, driven not by necessity but because we want to know.

Questions follow questions. Can I eat that? Can I grow it? Why does this reed make a sound when I blow through it? Food and music are discovered. Someone finds a sturdy stick. A walking stick, and soon a weapon. Lines are draw on sandy ground, then painted onto rock and hides. Maps are made to chart the wanderer’s path.

We cross the last hill and find a sea. But now is not the time to stop. Wood floats, this is known. A little later, and mankind sails out on boats across the water to find out what lies on the other side. They learn how to make the stars their guide. Navigation becomes more than simple wandering.

Where people grow tired and rest, they find new fruits and vegetables and animals. The nomad becomes the gardener and herdsman. Someone notices those mangy wolves following the camp for scraps. Someone tames them.

People build huts of straw and wood, of stone and brick. Cities appear. Curiosity turns inwards. How to make life better? Clever hands produce answers: the wheel, the hammer, the nail, the net, the plough, the saddle.

Not all stay in cities. Others keep wandering, looking for the next hill and sea and valley. They wander far afield, planting new cultures wherever they stop awhile. Downriver and up mountain and across desert. Because they can. Because they must know what is there.

The whole earth is charted. Mankind does not rest. The ocean deeps call out. The stars wink at humanity, inviting it to pay them a visit. Steam and electricity are harnessed. Fire no longer warms the camp, but lifts man and woman on ships of steel into the airless void to visit the moon. Other ships carry them beneath the ocean into the lightless abyss to glimpse its moody depths.

It is the never-ending journey. Why? Reasons are given, some long and eloquent, others little more than a careless shrug. Because we must know. Because we are curious creatures. Because we can scarce imagine what new mystery awaits us over the next hill.

If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Image: “A view of hills and sky” by World Bank Photo Collection; Licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

Face-to-Face in an Age of Long-Distance Technology

I’m an introvert by nature. I like being alone. Being isolated holds no real terror for me. Sure, it can be a bit monotonous at times, but I have a knack for finding ways to amuse myself. All in all, I enjoy being by myself. And in today’s word of Zoom meetings and work-from-home job schedules, I have more time to myself then ever. Most of us do. Heck, the Internet has made in-person interaction almost a secondary social trait.

That being said, I will never decry the importance – the essentiality – of physically being with friends.

I recently celebrated New Year’s with a group of close friends. We spent the night playing board games and laughing at each other’s corny jokes. Not being a social butterfly, such events are relatively rare for me, which makes them all the sweeter. Being with people is fun. And if I say that as if it’s some grand discovery, maybe that’s just the millennial in me talking.

We need people. Not just people’s words on social media, or their faces on the web camera. We need to be with people. Humans are social animals.

“Relationship” is a word that’s easy to bandy about. What other words are there to use to illustrate its complexity? Friendship. Camaraderie. Partnership. Sharing. Connecting. Time investment. Yup, relationships demand our time. Maybe a friendship in person is more precious because you sacrifice the time to be there in the flesh, rather than sit on your butt in front of your computer typing from a distance.

That New Year’s party was time well-spent. The spontaneity, the laughter, the jokes, the simple act of being there. It stirred memories of when that was commonplace for me. Maybe for all of us? Before the advent of social distancing. High school and college days where I hung out with friends during lunch and chatted with them throughout the week. Things that I took for granted. Ah, but hindsight is always bittersweet.

So, this New Year has gotten me thinking about the importance of in-person relationships. Writing is a solitary activity, and that means socializing is something I must seek elsewhere. I do have a social life, mind you, but perhaps I was starting to treat it a little too casually and valuing it a little less than I should have. We all need to see a living face every once in a while.

If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Image: “Forest” by tim_gorman; Licensed under CC BY-ND 2.0.

Why Do You Create?

Christmas vacation has given me more time than usual to spend on my writing and passion. That needling desire – that need – to write is stronger than ever within me. With this awareness fresh in mind, I want to ask a question to my readers. No need to answer in the comments if you don’t want to, of course. This is just something to ponder when you have a moment.

Why do you create?

This isn’t just a question for authors, or for artists, sculptors, songwriters, musicians, poets, filmmakers, and those who doodle in their notebooks during class. This is for all who feel the urge to create something, to tinker with something, to take something apart and put it back together again.

This is for those who enjoy the act of producing and modifying and bringing into being a thing that wasn’t there before. The car mechanics, the dance choreographers, the sketchers, the gardeners, the woodcarvers, the fashion designers, the computer programmers, the origami enthusiasts, the crocheters, the embroiderers, and the engravers. The shoemakers, the tailors, the welders, the carpenters, the jewelers, and the chemists. The people who sing in the shower and the people who love decorating for Christmas. The people who color coordinate their clothes and the ones who sew blankets for their friends’ children. This is for all of you.

Why do you create?

What is this burning desire? This all-consuming thought that strikes us out of the blue: I want to make something. Why? What does it do for you? What is this amazing, crazy facet of human nature, this ability and impulse to make something new in the world?

And what happens if we don’t answer the desire? How do you feel if you can’t create, or if you experience a blockage?

Just a thought to ponder as the new year approaches. Whatever the answer, I wish you luck with your creations, and the fervent hope you can share them with others. To create is a gift, and the best gifts are shared with others.

If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Image: “Another Bosque Sunrise” by snowpeak; Licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Being Patient in Today’s World

We live in the world of “now.” Want a cup of coffee? Stop by Starbucks and get it now. Want to watch a movie? Stream it online now. Want to talk face-to-face with your third cousin twice-removed who lives on the other side of the planet? Schedule a Zoom meeting on your computer right now. This is the age of the instantaneous. Everything can be gotten at the moment you decide you want it.

I’m not knocking on modern conveniences. Technology has improved life across the board. Medicine and communications and transportation have all benefited from technological progress. But progress has its price. We don’t value patience that much, anymore. And I can only really say that because being a writer has made me much more aware of the importance of patience.

Writing a book isn’t a quick and easy task. I have to invest a great deal of time in crafting my story, outlining it, going through multiple drafts, editing and formatting the final product. It’s easy to feel antsy at times and just want to push it to the side because I’ve been working on it for over a year and still don’t have a published product. Will it ever get done? Is it worth it? Should I just move on to something else that yields immediate results?

Patience isn’t something that comes naturally to everyone. Maybe there are people out there who don’t struggle with staying level-headed and calm in all situations. I’m not one of them. I tend to rush through life and need to remind myself to slow down. It isn’t a virtue I’m inclined towards because, quite frankly, being patient is scary.

“Hourglass” by John-Morgan is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

After all, to wait for something implies trust in that thing’s value and worthwhileness. Grabbing an egg sandwich from McDonald’s is different from cooking an omelet. One is quick and easy, the other takes time and effort to prepare. And time is precious, isn’t it? It’s the ultimate currency. We only have a fixed amount in the bank. So, what we are willing to wait for determines what we value the most. And when you spend time on something, that’s time you can’t get back.

Writing has taught me patience, bit by bit. The value of taking time to prepare the story and to make sure that I’ve chosen the right words. The time to submit my work to others for evaluation and feedback. Patience leads to quality, too. A rushed product is often a shoddy product. The best things in life take time to make. And patience takes courage. I invest time in writing because I trust it is worthwhile in the end.

One last thought: Patience entails an assurance and certainty that waiting will bear results. It is a form of faith, if you will, because it requires one to trust that a future we cannot yet grasp will yield something positive for us. Otherwise, why wait for it at all?

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