Fifty years have flown by at supersonic speed. I can flash back on memories of my childhood and adolescence and remember them clearly as if they happened yesterday. I try to be present for each remaining moment. I forget. I get lost in my head. Again and again. A week slips by in a day. Does time go slower when we are young? I think it does.
How is time going by for you?
I thought Joni Mitchell wrote and popularized “Who knows Where The Time Goes.” It turns out a British folk rocker named Sandy Denny wrote the song and Judy Collins made it famous. A little research can go a long way. Here’s my version of the song based on the way the late great Eva Cassidy played it.
Science Fiction Writing Tip For Today:
“You have to be out of your mind while knowing what you’re doing most of the time.”
I first heard “Cornflower Blue” as the opening song on Kate Wolf’s 1983 double album “Give Yourself to Love.” As I listened to the album many times over, “Cornflower Blue” grew on me (no pun intended). I began to appreciate the exquisite beauty in the lyrics and in Kate’s lovely singing voice. I especially like the last verse of the song which goes:
“Cornflower Blue, deeper than the evening sky. Peaceful as a river. Bluer than goodbye. Blue like a diamond, when the light shine true. If love came in colors, I’d choose this one for you.”
Isn’t it, you know, beautiful?
Oftentimes, songs like this one will find their way into my heart and I feel compelled to play them myself. With this song, I had my doubts. The chances were good that I might not pull it off. Learning how to play “Cornflower Blue” like Kate does was like learning how to walk again. The style is completely counterintuitive to what I’m used to, but I’m glad I made the effort. I hope my cover of the song conveys some of the mystery and beauty of the original.
A place where I can spend days basking in meditation
Soaring close to the Heart Sun
Inevitably, I must arise and live in the world
Where the only way to move forward is to take a leap
Into the deep unknown
Into who knows what
Or where
I don’t want to jump
I’m not looking for trouble
Or confusion
Or more suffering
But walking in weary circles leads to “nowheresville”
As my Dad used to say
And holding on doesn’t work
So, a path cluttered with dried leaves is unveiled
Beckoning me towards a seemingly un-crossable crossroad
A paradox or a dilemma
The wise ones say, “Be who you are where you are”
Really? What if that place is constantly under water?
Unless I do something
Like making lemonade from demon lemons
I want to feel real love
I want to feel real peace
I want to feel real joy
If I take the leap
Will I find these delights?
Within reasonable bounds (if reason is necessary)
And so, I am pushed by unseen forces
To the edge of a cliff
Where I must decide
Without Knowing
“The path forward may sometimes be unclear. And it may be messy. But the shared heart is calling, and we have an opportunity to make lasting shifts toward love and justice in our world.”
Put them in the hands of children, and they are apt to draw Moms and Dads, third-grade teachers, tulips, and dragons.
Pencils in the hands of adults are apt to write brilliant plays or novels.
The work of Robert Ludlam and Lee Child comes to mind.
In adult hands, pencils are also useful for solving complex mathematical problems.
Or sketching landscapes, faces, and naked bodies.
Or drawing just about anything, like plans for an invention to wash, dry, and put away a month’s worth of dirty dishes.
What if pencils came with the option of connecting to a vast reservoir of primeval energy?
In order to make your dreams come true?
How does it Work?
First, you’ll need a supercharged pencil at a cost of three-million-five-hundred-sixty thousand dollars for the special writing implement. Then, you’ll have to cough up another one-million-seven-hundred-fifty-three thousand dollars for the one-time primeval energy hookup.
The primeval energy bubbles and bursts somewhere deep in the bowels of the Earth. The exact location is kept under wraps for the sake of National Security.
Visually, I’m told by confidential sources, the energy resembles molten lava amped up on mild steroids.
The connection to the energy is wireless.
The special pencil allows the user to manifest (bring to life in three dimensions) anything the operator’s heart desires.
If you are thinking: where do I get one? please be advised that the item is backordered well into the next century.
And you must pass a battery of exhausting psychological tests to have the privilege of placing an order.
Due to the long lead times required to process many of the orders, the manufacturer assumes science will develop the technology to extend human life spans and thereby delivery dates.
If science fails to adequately extend human life spans, or if a purchaser tires of his or her two-century life, then the buyer will have the right to bequeath the order to a qualified heir.
If you lack the patience or funding, then try making your dreams come true the old- fashioned way.
Some say, “WTF. I give up. I don’t care about it anymore.”
Some may be fortunate enough to have the meaning they seek fall down on their heads like summer rain. As it is said, “Seek and ye shall find.”
Then, there are those who make their own meaning. They refuse to “surrender,” as so many religious pundits counsel them to do.
Instead, these intrepid souls stand up and refuse to be shredded by the unkind cuts of life.
They make their own meaning. They have the courage, the confidence, the motivation, the talent, and the perseverance to make it happen.
Above all else, I believe motivation and the intelligence to use talent wisely are the most important qualities for making a beneficial impact personally and inter-personally.
Talent without the requisite qualities to use it beneficially is a waste. We’ve seen too many examples in the media of people who can’t handle their talent. Who think it’s a curse rather than a gift. Who take their talent for granted. Who don’t accept the responsibility that comes with the gift.
Where am I going with this?
Ah, yes.
I’m simply making meaning in my own little way.
Through the haze and uncertainty of these hard times.
Three Days to Darkness 