It’s all in the attitude

3244 fearless love endures

Oh, bother. Oh, woe. Will inspiration ever strike? It’s so ha-ard to sit here and try to write. How am I going to get my characters out of this mess? It takes so long to work it all out. I don’t want to sit at this desk and try to concentrate on all this.

“Isn’t this great?!”

What? No. Are you crazy?

“Only crazy about how much fun I’m having. It’s so great to take a little time for inspiration to strike.”

You call this fun?

“Yes! Yes! Yes! It’s so much fun to just sit and try to write. How am I going to get my characters out of this mess? I can take my time to work it all out. I just love to sit at this desk and concentrate on all this. I’m living the creative! Wheeeeeee!!!”

(Guess which attitude is more fun – and more productive.)

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A short short story about a man who rested his eyes and woke up as a pod person

rest my eyes

“Just – resting – my eyes … I’ll do it after I – rest – my – eyes –”

He slept, and when he awoke, he was a pod person. His soul had withered and died in the night.

And he lived unhappily ever after.

*

“What kind of a story is THAT?!”

“Well – it might be a real one. You know the old proverbs about folding your hands for a little sleep …”

“What proverbs are those?”

“Oh, look them up.”

Hobgoblins on Parade

dinosaur eye web

(With the usual thanks to H.L. Mencken)

He brushed aside the brush and peered into the clearing, not sure he could trust his eyes. Oh, nothing was wrong with his eyes, it’s just that they presented him with a sight that would be unbelievable except for the fact that, undeniably, the sight was there and his eyes were delivering an accurate picture of the clearing.

Plainly, he could see – well, the plain fact was that hobgoblins were swarming.

He couldn’t tell how many there were – after a certain quantity the actual number became irrelevant. It was enough to constitute a swarm, and perhaps five hobgoblins would be enough to subdue the average person. When five is enough, then it didn’t matter whether the clearing contained a platoon, a brigade or a regiment: It was simply more than enough to overcome his solitary soul. He was toast if he entered the clearing. He was toast if they saw him in the underbrush. He was, quite simply, toast. Continue reading “Hobgoblins on Parade”

Interview with a ‘journalist’ who turns out to be a tinker

sleeping dogs lie

“So you sit down every morning and write in your journal.”

“Yep.”

“What do you write?”

“I’m not even sure. Most days I just open the book and write anything – a story, a conversation like this one, or thinking about what to publish next or some such.”

“OK, then what? What do you do with what you write?”

“Do?”

“Yeah. What do you do with this stuff?”

“Well — usually I just leave it.”

“You don’t go back and read it?”

“Well, I do …”

“And —”

“Some of it’s pretty interesting. Might be a piece of a novel I’m tinkering with, might be a song lyric or a short story I could flesh out.”

“So – do you do that? Flesh it out? Put it in the novel?”

“Not always. Every now and then. OK, almost never.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Why not?”

“Scared, I think.”

“Scared of what?”

“It won’t be good enough. It’ll be a great idea but I can’t execute, or no one will care.”

“Do you care?”

“Well, sure —”

“Then who cares who cares?”

Fearless love endures

3244 fearless love endures

It’s as if a thousand voices were raised in alarm specifically to drag you in. “Why aren’t you angry? You should be upset, you have to be scared if something – isn’t – done. Many might die if it isn’t changed, and by ‘Many’ we mean you. Be afraid, be very afraid, because they’re coming for you, it’s going to overtake you – Don’t look back, because something may be gaining on you.” (Satchel Paige?)

I call BS. I call for peace. I call for light and knowledge and peeling away the anger and the anxiety and the fear and the sadness. I call for life and letting it be.

Every One Of Us needs respect – no, love – Give love and it will be given, not right away perhaps and not for a long time perhaps, but love and fearlessness – fearless love – endures. Fearless Love Endures.

When someone strikes you, smile in love.

When someone insults you, smile in love.

They strike and they insult that which they don’t understand. They wish you to join them in ignorance and anger and hate – Hatred drives violence – Violence is an act of hatred. The cycle will be broken only when hatred is replaced by love, when the fist is uncurled to a hand of friendship.

Few wish to hate. It is far easier to live in peace than to agitate emotions and fuel hatred. “Live and let live” is a simpler creed than “Yield to my will.” Force is not needed to live and let live; the only energy expended is in the living. Bending a will takes agitation and even violence; relax the mind and it unfolds into peace.

When love is the impetus, others respond. The walls fall. The hatred is questioned, and the violent ones hesitate.

I say a sickness overtakes the hateful, the violent. The anger is a symptom of the disease. The slap and the insult are manifestations of the soul-cancer eating away at the person who slaps and insults. Try instead to understand.

Did I say love is easy? In its most natural state, yes – as easy as drinking in the sun and feeling the grandeur of a sunrise. In the face of hatred and violence, love can be an extreme effort – the disease is so contagious, it is easy to catch the anger and the fear and turn it back where it came from. Love the transgressor, love the ravager of peace and love, love the war monger and oppressor? Yes: Love. Those who love in the face of pure hatred may be ridiculed, martyred even, but the act of love will be remembered long after the purveyors of hate are dust in the wind. Love prevails. Love endures.

Listen to those who add value

2943 - dark at dawn

What’s with all the discouraging words? Home, home with the strange, where the crackpot politicians play, where seldom is heard an encouraging word and the skies are just cloudy all day.

Sow discord, reap the whirlwind. These gardeners have been tilling the soil with seeds of hate, envy, fear and loathing for so long, it’s hard to breathe with all these weeds choking the air.

Fortunately, there is a solution. Stop listening, for one. Much of their power is in the silver tongue of false promises and false prophecies. (”The world as we know it will end unless you give me more power!!!”)

Whatever is good – think on those things. Listen to those who add value to life: the builders, not the petty demolition experts. Turn off the noise …