Saturday, April 16, 2011

What if instead of trying to impose rules and regulations on people to make for a better more peaceful world they were taught how to be happy.  I know some of my present peacefulness comes with age. With age comes the ability to be happy with what I am, where I am, what I've got right now.  Perhaps this is something that can't be taught but can only be gained by experience.  I just know that without being wildly happy with that feverishness which is half fueled by hormones, I am quietly peacefully serenely happy.  That could change tomorrow with the vagaries of fate - some horrible accident or disease or catastrophe and the proof of the depth of peace would come with my ability to cope with such a thing.  Still perhaps it is something that can be acquired.

Some of this new found happiness can be attributed to where I live (and of course to the fact that I have food, shelter, a companion, pets, etc.).  I was walking the dogs the other day and just marveling at the complexity and beauty of the world I live in.  Would I get that same 'oceanic feeling' that Jung writes of if I lived in the city or the suburbs?  I don't know.  One tree, one blade of grass, a patch of sky, all of it can instill that joy if it is seen for what it is; a true miracle.

I keep returning to this theme and I imagine anyone reading this would get a little bored (unless they were experiencing the same thing and comparing my poor words with the richness of their experience).  Yet it is important.  We take this earth we live on for granted.  We aspire for things (me included) which matter not one whit.  We project our energy and ourselves out there when the richness and the mystery is within.   Right here right now all the time forever.  It is our present experience in this moment.  The very act of breathing,  the fullness of our senses, of our thought.  The difference between life and death.  Life is majesty and magnificence.  Death is null and void. 

Now, for something different.  Was thinking about my poor abandoned book last night.  It's unfinished, it's not very good but worth trying to resurrect at least to finish it.  Saved it to this extension drive from the old computer and now I can't access it.  The thing with changing computers is you can save data but you can't save software.  Makes no sense to me.  So the book is written on yWriter, which is a great little program except I can't use it.  Wonder if I could download the yWriter software onto the extension drive and then get them to meld.

But then why not start another book?  Have just finished reading Philip Pullman's Dark Matter trilogy.  What an amazing writer.  Perhaps he's considered light writing, like Rimsky Korsakov compared to Mahler but I found his writing extraordinary.  The characters are alive.  They are human and foible but glow with the humanity of their being, the essential goodness which glows as an inner spark in each of us.  Some writers are uncomfortable to read.  I can see them toiling behind the scenes, grinding out plot, character, scenes to some recipe they've picked up somewhere which they take for gospel rather than writing from their hearts.  When I get the sense of that writer behind the curtain, like Oz in the Wizard of Oz, I can't read it.  It's just too cumbersome.  I feel I have to carry the weight of my failed suspension of belief.  Formula writing, that's what it is.  Others, like J.K. Rawling and Pullman and the best of Holly Lisle or what was her name, Sara Douglass, they get it right sometimes.  Found these writers, read a book each and was delighted.  Found other books by them and was disappointed.  Anyway, so I was thinking about Pullman's books.  There are other books, many books written into the trilogy.  Whole worlds to explore from a few casual observations.  But that is his territory and his treasure.  Still, it started me thinking about another book. 

I've just found my book, in MS Word format, on the extension drive.  I can't see any way of turning it back into yWriter format.  It seems I can't download yWriter onto the extension drive.  Perhaps I can download it onto the hard drive and then transfer each chapter onto it.  Guess I'll give it a go.

In the meantime the drawing is nearing completion.  There is a show open to local artists in November.  I'm going to get the information and enter at least one, perhaps two drawings to see if they'll be accepted. 

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