So Much to Write About...

Decades ago when assigned to write a paper, essay, or class project the blank page stared back at me. Very, very white! Its dimensions – the top of page, bottom of page, left and right margins – struck me dumb. My fingers froze over the keyboard of the typewriter (readers younger than 42, ask your parents what a typewriter is/was!). Not a thought came to mind. Nothing. No letters, words, phrases or sentences. By this time I didn’t even know the subject matter, and that was assigned! 

Now many years later selecting the topic is difficult. But the words, they flow effortlessly. So much to think about. So much to write about. So much to wonder and ponder upon. Asking the questions and seeking the answers. Perfecting the questions. Determining what’s important to spend time on. Is this even worthwhile?  

Let’s try some on for size. 

• What is the best way to spend time?
• What purpose is my life?
• Who do I love? And who loves me?
• What is love?
• What makes for happiness? Indeed, how is that word defined?
• When a day dawns beautiful, how do you describe it? Why would you bother to?
• How green is the grass? Or tree? Or shrub?
• Birdsong lifts my spirits; why?
• What is liquid; what is solid; gas?

Contemplating these things may seem empty and a waste of time to the busy person. But it holds vast riches if you take the time to observe. To ponder. To let the mind wander. 

Let me try these on for size. 

How green is the grass? Fathomless shades of green. Deep dark rich greens, almost black, and in the shade it is nearly black as black! In full sunshine the greens emblazon the eyes with shades so distinct and different from one another. Greens that refresh and like a tonic embue zest. Greens with dew drops sliding down their stalks; dew drops which sparkle like diamonds in the light. Waving in the breeze, grass blades shimmer and dance with green delight. Oh the grass is very green. Indeed. 

Birdsong lifts spirits; why? Because the lilt of each tweet and twirp pushes upward against the gravity of day; it makes room for itself in sound. It presses our eardrums toward vibrations that make sense. Nature is calling. Birdlife sees promise in the day. The air is free. So are the worms. This branch is springy and yet certain. A good perch from which to see what lies before me. A sunny bright dawn. A light movement of air. It is refreshing and rebirthing. What’s not to like?

What is liquid, solid, gas? Well, it is really the same thing in different forms. Take water for instance, it is ice, liquid and steam at different temperatures. So is rock: hard seemingly impermeable; yet hot enough it flows as lava, hotter still it is steamy billows of ash, atomized in different form. Water as liquid: sometimes it seems almost oily and viscous, but it is that only at very calm motion or at molecular viewing. It has ability to adhere to surfaces like glass, and itself. It has properties which grab and pull in many directions yet seeks the lowest point as gravity dictates. As ice it is solid; relatively stable at key temperatures, yet add heat, lots of heat, and steam billows forth, sometimes with a burst, other times as languorous clouds of mist and vapor. So is glass a solid, liquid and gas. We just don’t think of it as such. Yes glass sags in the bounds of its window frame. Yes it thins at the top of the pane and thickens at the bottom. Slow motion to be sure, but it sags none the less. Didn’t know that, did you? Odd to think of. But true nonetheless. 

When you think of solids – earth, soil, rock, earth’s crust, etc. – you don’t think of it as space. But it is. Else why would Fermilab in Batavia/Warrenville, Illinois shoot particles from earth’s surface down through the earth’s crust to a long distant target hundreds of miles away in the Iron Range of northern Minnesota? And hits the target! After traveling through soil, rock and crust of earth. From surface to surface. Not around the rock. But through it. Yes, it does so because there is space. Like viscous glass in liquid form or solid, there is space through which to travel. You wouldn’t think so; but there is that space. 

It’s a wonder, life is. Just thinking about it gives pleasure. Happiness? Maybe. Depends of course on your definition of happiness. For me wonder brings pleasure. Realization that life is complex, the natural world, the spiritual order we bring to it, the understanding of its qualities and how to make use of them.  

Reminds me of something Rocky pulled off the Internet for me to think about, perhaps you’d like to think on it as well: 

“People were created to be loved. Things were created to be used. The reason the world is in chaos is because things are being loved and people are being used.”

                                                                                                            ~Author Unknown

I feel comfortable contemplating ideas and people. But worth of each is another dimension. Respecting and loving them forms larger challenges to ponder. But all is good. All is good. If you let it and keep it in proper order. 

June 6, 2012

PS: Birthday shout out to Ann Huneke!