In a peek inside my head on May 24, 2010 at 12:52 pm
We had a yard sale yesterday and as usual there are a few bigger type items that didn’t sell. Tomorrow is “throw anything out” day so we left those items on our curb, hoping someone would come and take them before tomorrow. A few of the things have disappeared. We’ve still got a red chair, a futon mattress, and a paper Ikea lamp sitting there. The item that’s gotten the most attention so far is the lamp. People slow down when they drive by, checking it out, but most don’t stop. Except for one lady. She jumped out of the passenger door almost before the driver stopped. She grabbed the lamp while the driver did a u-ie and was half-way across the street before she stopped in her tracks and promptly returned the lamp to the curb. Why so much interest but no takers? It works. There are even two bulbs in it.
Well, for one, the paper’s torn in a few places. And for two, there are a couple of stains on it as well. And people don’t see those things until they’re right up close. But from a distance the lamp looks great.
And really, it’s still a perfectly fine lamp underneath all the… ugly stuff.
That got me to thinking: when do I do that? I mean, how many times do I rush towards something (or someone, for that matter) because from a distance it looks so appealing, so great? Most times it isn’t until that thing is in my hands and I’m half-way across the street that I realize it isn’t what I’d thought it would be. If it has to do with a “something” then it’s easy enough to pitch it back to the curb, right?
But what if it’s a “someone”? What do I do with that? Do I keep that person in my life even though they didn’t turn out to be what I thought they’d be? They looked good from a distance but they’ve turned out to be so obnoxious. Or embarrasing. Or self-centred. Or draining. Or… whatever. They’re just not what I thought they’d be.
Very coincidentally, the dogs have just gone crazy barking… So I just looked out the window. A girl just picked up my lamp – and put it in her car! She took it: rips and stains and all.
She must have seen that it was still a perfectly good lamp underneath all the ugly stuff.
In Perspective, Random Thoughts on May 21, 2010 at 2:58 pm
You know how sometimes there’s a song – or entire album – that you just keep listening to over and over? Well, I keep being drawn back to Coldplay’s Prospekt’s March/Viva La Vida, time and time again. To me, it’s all about perspective and how we, in our human nature, have such a biased and limited understanding of the big picture of life. Which makes the album’s title – “Live the Life” – so very awesome. (Not sure if that’s the message Coldplay had intended to project with this album, but that’s what I get out of it! Ah yes, my biased and limited perspective :)) But biased and limited or not, my perspective of it speaks to me. And it’s what makes it such a great album for me to write to as well.
Here, read for yourself; see what you think. (I dare you not to sing!)
One minute I held the key
Next the walls were closed on me
And I discovered that my castles stand
Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand.
– Viva La Vida
You might be a big fish
In a little pond
Doesn’t mean you’ve won
‘Cause along may come
A bigger one
Time is so short and I’m sure
There must be something more
People moving all the time
Inside a perfectly straight line
Don’t you wanna curve away?
When it’s such
It’s such a perfect day
– Strawberry Swing
No I don’t wanna battle from beginning to end;
I don’t wanna cycle, recycle revenge;
I don’t wanna follow death and all his friends.
– Death And All His Friends
In Why I do what I do, writing on May 2, 2010 at 5:50 pm
Reading a bad review about your book really stinks. (And by “a” I don’t mean to say that I’ve only had one. Trust me.)
Some of them hit me harder than others. And when a hard-hitting one comes along, immeditately the cloud settles over my head and I stop for a moment or 27 and say to myself a few times over, “What the heck am I doing? Why do I spend so much time and give so much of my life to something that someone – anyone – can quickly read through and then casually sit at their computer and with a few clicks of the keyboard tell the world how much they disliked what I’ve written? Why do I do that to myself?”
What. The. Heck. Am. I. Doing? (Insert pity-party with a high-calorie treat and impulsive trip to the mall here.)
I do know that eventually the cloud will clear away, though, and I’ll see a bit of the sun again. It never stays completely dark for too, too long. (Unless of course you live where the sun doesn’t come up for six months or more of the year. Sheesh. I don’t even want to begin imagining the symbolic connections to that.) And when that first pin-prick of light does comes back; a day, a month – gulp! – SIX months later, I fully remember why the heck I’m doing what I’m doing –> Because I love it. Because it gives me satisfaction. Because it’s what I’m wired up to do: I can’t not do it.
And because there are readers out there who do like what I write. End of sentence.
Ah, yes. Face up. Shoulders back. Return those unnecessary purchases and put the tub of ice-cream back in the freezer. Here comes the sun.