It's the Old Serendipity Trick Again!

Yesterday I posted a photograph and an old poem of mine on this blog. Nothing unusual there you might say, but quite the contrary my dear friends. You see, that post was meant for my other blog, which some of you may have been introduced to. No? Well it’s great. I mean the pictures on there are absolutely fantastic. You just have to see it for yourself. So, here’s the link.

Anyway, not wanting to stray too far from my train of thought I shall return to yesterday’s post and it’s ‘misplacement’ here. The inverted commas, quotation marks, or whatever the grammatically correct call them these days, suggest or should suggest that there was no misplacement. This despite my intention of posting the photo and the poem on my photo blog (called ‘Instants out of Time’ by the way). Let’s not call it misplacement; let’s call it serendipity.

Good word that. Serendipity. It suggests that there are no mistakes or accidents, that things happen as they are meant to, that the cards fall where they will. Well you get the picture eh? You see, last night I must have been a whole lot tireder than I thought I was. I went merrily about the task of posting that picture and poem to the other blog, not realising for who knows what reason that I was positing it here instead.

Indeed: who knows for what reason anything happens? As it turns out, a dear friend saw that post on this blog, and he is not yet following me on the other blog (some friends can be a bit slow with such things) and would therefore have missed the post. It had an impact for him you see. He read it, looked at the image and we’ve had a good discussion about it during which I have learned more about him, him about me, and me about me. Maybe him about him too. Who knows?

Yes, serendipity. The word itself is apparently very hard to translate into languages other than English. I can see why. Early definitions focus on it meaning finding something you didn’t expect to find, while more modern definitions talk about ‘accident’ and ‘chance’ and ‘fortunate’. I dig the old one better don’t you? I mean I didn’t expect to post on the ‘wrong’ blog, and my friend didn’t ‘expect’ such a post on this blog. All round a happy accident I think. (note: there are no such things as accidents!)

To Thine Own Self Be True. Cool quote eh?

Well, this post is not about the quote I've used for the title, but it is kind of related. As this blog is titled, in part, Dharma Dreaming, I seem to be attuned to any mention of the words or concepts when I come across them in books and stuff.
Now I've said that I have no idea what I was reading when I came across yet another definition of Dharma; it's one I've never seen before. This source said that an 'almost literal translation' of Dharma is, 'duty towards self'.
Nice eh? Just kind of resonated for me when I read it. Makes sense I think. If Dharma is the truth, the law (and I also read somewhere, the lore) of the universes, a guide to life, and on and on, then it makes sense that inbuilt in all that would be a duty to self, or a responsibility to yourself.
We always have a duty to tell the truth of course. But what we often forget is our duty, our responsibility, to express our own truth(s) in our actions, behaviours and attitudes. And we are certainly, many of us, guilty of not being consistent in our duty of care towards ourselves and our well being.
Of course you know what this means: eat right, do right, think right, treat yourself right. All that eight fold path stuff from the Buddha's teachings come into it as well. But in this context it's all about YOU and how YOU look after YOU. I'm not saying be a selfish so and so. Not at all. This is really more about being really you, and being the best you you can be. If you know what I mean. Too much use of you here for my liking!!!
And if you (and me) are the best you can be right now, right here (doesn't mean you're perfect; doesn't mean you have sorted it all out and life is all hunky dorey [what does that mean?], it really, I guess now I think about it, is about being fully present to what you're doing, who you're with and how you are.
Just about care of self. That's all. Of course it sounds really easy; if you're human, you know it's not so simple. All we can do is do our best. And if you do that, your best I mean, then you are truly and really being true to yourself. And that's about as perfect as anyone can expect you do be. Even if that someone is you!
Peace

Life is for Loving: Yr Life that is. Kerouac's No. 4

Be in love with yr life

As I did some research (and being a writer, I just LOVE research. Sure, I hear you scoff) on this, Kerouac's No. 4 Technique, I was astonished to see the number of conversations happening across the 'net on the topic. More specifically I was looking at the idea of 'love vs being in love'; many others are thinking about this question too. So many heartfelt, clearly thought out and expressed ideas took my breath away. Thanks to those people.

At the end of my research I've come to the conclusion that love is love. You know? But being in love is thought to be either that early falling, the intense emotion that goes with that first attraction (to a lover or whoever), or it is an intensity you can grow into over time, after that initial attraction gets labelled love and so it goes from there.

But this is a tip for writers, so let's keep it in mind shall we? Being in love with life. No, sorry YOUR life (or as Kerouac put it, yr life) most likely means saying YES to it all. It all being the ups, downs, quiet times, good times, bad times, fun times, poverty times, riches times. All times. And places that you find yourself in, or have chosen to be in, for good or ill, as the expression goes.

It means a full on, emotionally committed engagement with all that your life is and what it brings to you. Isn't this what writers do? I guess if they are really writers they do: they really dig life. Or as Robert Heinlein wrote in Stranger in a Strange Land, really and truly grok the whole deal.

You don't need me to tell you that life stinks sometimes. And it's hard to think about loving (or being in love with) those bits. Life can occasionally (or even often) be a real downer, and it can be hard to imagine just why or how we could love it at those times. Actually, anyone who has read Kerouac, will see how much of his life wasn't exactly a bed of roses or something easy to fall in love with. But, again those same readers (this one included) will also say that it is clear he was in love or loved his life. He just dug it. Yes?

Whatever my research told me, I know that for most of us, 'being in love' is a romantic notion, most often attached to a lover, girl or boyfriend. We sure don't talk about being in love with our cats do we? Mind you. Looking now at one of mine (Lofi is his name: a variant on Lofa which is Tongan for love by the way) curled up on his favourite paddling blanket on the end of the sofa, I could begin to wonder if it is possible. But, whatever, we usually only 'fall in love' in that romantic sense. Still 'romantic' does have other meanings than that which we associate with lovers loving., marriage and all that. That's a subject for another lifetime I think.

No, maybe it isn't . Maybe that's what Kerouac is saying: marry your life. Now that's a thought isn't it? Follow the link for the meaning of grok: it seems to me to be a lot like that intuitive (as opposed to all this intellectualised, researched stuff about the subject) understanding most of us have of being in love. And, as for the relevance to writing and writers (and to other creatives). Well, as it says on that entry in Wikipedia:

...a grokked concept (in this case your life) becomes part of the person
who contributes to its evolution by improving the doctrine, perpetuating the
myth, espousing the belief, adding detail to the social plan, refining the idea
or proofing the theory.

Sounds pretty much what we do, don't you think?

Is Life Too Short for Perfect Writing?

Having heard of an interesting piece of graffiti, I went to see and photograph it just the other day. It is a statement that reads, simply, Life’s too short for perfect writing. Simple on the surface, but it is a deceptive idea, and one that I at least should examine carefully.

The first thing to say is that the statement does not say that life is too short for goodwriting: in my opinion there is no place for any other kind. Here good for me refers to the intention of the writer: not all of us are gifted authors (though some of us can dream!). So, it is the word perfect that gives us trouble here. Of course a thing-whether writing or any other thing- might be perfect by its nature or by the way in which it is able to express its purpose. It is the persuit of perfection (as opposed to the persuit of excellence: the two are not the same) that life is too short for I think.

Perfectionism is a curse! At least it has been for me. Nothing has ever been good enough, mainly because I have never been satisfied with my efforts. Of course being cursed with perfectionism doesn’t only apply to oneself: all people and all things in one’s life are affected and the curse rolls on and on doing its damage and preventing authenticity, full truth and life to express itself.

The other part of this statement worth looking at is Life’s too short. By itslef it is not in dispute: life is what life is; it can be niether too short or too long, it can only be its perfect (you see? here is a use of perfect in a natural and correct context) length. And this is precisely why it is too short for perfect writing that is created via a perfectionist attitude.

Life is for living. There is no meaning to it outside of that which we create during our time of living, and then it is only for the duration of that life (as far as we can know of course). A part of that meaning, for me as for many many other writers, is to write. And it is required of us to make that writing as good (however we define that) as we can. If our writing communicates the intended ideas in a way that our readers can relate to, then it is perfect. There is no need to think about it anymore.

Thank you

PS My partner says that maybe I have taken this graffiti message on board: she says my writing is getting better and better. I am not concious of letting go of my perfectionism, but it is one of those things that lives below the surface and it isn’t always available to scrutiny. Time will tell. By the way, the statement appeared at the bottom of a cafe menu scrawled onto an old iron sheeting fence behind the cafe, near the river near where we live. It, I think, refers to the untidyness of the handwriting on the sign. A sort of apology I guess. Interesting.

PPS This post has been copied from my other blog over at Wordpress. Not that I am being lazy, just that I want to share this post with more of my legions of fans!