For the first time in my history of air travel, the airports looked empty. The flights were sparsely peopled, and I’d think there were more employees than travelers.
I, like most everyone else, am curious to see the new world. The world of travel, and work, and leisure. When the world reopens, sometime in the future, it’ll be greatly interesting.
Solitude is fine but you need someone to tell that solitude is fine.
– Honoré de Balzac
As days of confinement come to an end, remember that yes, solitude is still okay.
Back in my early-twenties (or was it late teens? For the sake of legality, let’s assume I was at least twenty-one), I had an off-night at a bar. I was intoxicated, and I ended up roaming around town, no car, and no real idea where I was.
(Side note: this, in retrospect, not the best idea. I don’t recommend it. Be safe out there.)
Anyway, I call up a friend who’s in college in this town. I tell him the rough idea of where I’m at, street names and such. He comes and picks me up, let’s me sleep on a couch.
Now the next morning I’m faced with two choices – I can either stay there, subject to the whims of the others in the house, or I can go with my friend to his classes. I opt for the latter.
And the only thing I remember from that day of quasi-auditing was something about birds. There was a whole session of biology devoted to ornithology.
I didn’t necessarily have a problem with birds, but I didn’t particularly like them. At the time I was a meat-eater, and I did enjoy my chicken wings.
It was years later when I met a girl who would have rather been a bird. Or at least been able to turn into one. The dream of flight and freedom. That’s something I can understand.
This comes to mind because there are a lot of ravens up here I’ve noticed. Ravens, order Passeriformes, of the family Corvidae, are the largest of the corvids. The Raven, to the seven nations of the Northwestern tribes, is the trickster god, bringer of light, and creator of Earth.
I’ve seen them all over the shoreline and inland. They are loud birds, with a plethora of sounds that they can choose from. Somehow, leaving Alaska, I feel I’ll miss their bird song.
Here’s a confession for you. I’ve started reading Napolean Hill’s Think and Grow Rich like three times, and each time I just can’t seem to finish it.
It’s a bit embarrassing, really. This seminal work of putting the mind to use in directing your future – the benchmark of self-help gurus from Tony Robbins to Wayne Dyer to Robert Kiyosaki – and damned if I wasn’t flummoxed by it.
But, I always remember that first story in the book. It just sticks with me.
Edwin C. Barnes, who with nothing more than the burning desire to work with inventor Thomas Edison, took a freight train to the inventor’s factory in New Jersey and asked to partner with him. What he got was a job as a floor sweeper, which he accepted without hesitation.
Just a few years later, Barnes took Edison’s invention, the Ediphone, and sold it to great commercial and personal success. His dream became true because he thought and believed and then acted upon it.
While I suppose I never had the burning desire to finish Hill’s book, perhaps I absorbed some of it through mere repetitive osmosis. Have a burning desire. Act upon it. And the mind will corroborate to achieve your success.
I like movies. And, additionally, I like movie theaters. Seeing movies in the theater is a different experience than at home. For one, in a full theater, it’s a communal experience.
There are times I’ve talked about the transitory experience of live theatre, and that the performance that night will never be given again. Because, even if the lines and movements happen to be identical (being human, that seems incredibly unlikely), the audience changes. And each audience comes into a performance with something different than previous audiences.
Films, therefore, are subject to similar constraints. Audiences view films with many preconceived notions, and one’s perception of a movie can be drastically different from another seeing the same movie.
Under our current climate, it’s hard to envision what will happen to the movie theater, and to the film industry as a whole. But, as we’ve been programmed to be recipients for story since we first huddled in caves, I’m hopeful that we’ll resume theater-going once we’ve settled down again.
I know, at least, I’ll have a ticket in hand.
This has been a great opportunity for inside learning. I’ve been spending time with Lynda.com and Khan Academy. But there are a lot of other good learning resources.
When I started writing this blog four years ago, it was two parts. One, it was an opportunity to ship regularly. To write, and practice writing, and publish. To accept imperfection. Because, writing itself is a process, and I often let words tumble as they may.
The second, and perhaps the more important aspect, was as a coping mechanism. It gave me a platform to lay out my thoughts on a lot of personal issues. And I didn’t perhaps put as much intimate detail into these posts as I could have. As I’ve written recently, the dichotomy of public/private perception has been a challenge for me to work through. That is, being afraid of opening up.
It isn’t that we don’t do it as a species. Even culturally, some are apt to show their emotional content without any pretext. Americans, I feel, not so much. Me included.
It’s hard to open up – to expose your self and what you believe are your weaknesses. To “showing your throat” to what may be a dangerous opponent. And yet, the more we train ourselves not to, the harder it becomes, even with those we care about deeply.
While we shouldn’t go through life as an emotional whirlwind, it is important to try and be as authentic as possible – which means not closing off the feelings that we’re afraid to let others see.
It’s what I sometimes try and do here. Just to brush against authenticity. It doesn’t happen all the time. Even here, the Resistance feels a need to make its presence known. But it’s not about getting there. It’s all about the steps that are taken between here and there.
In pandemic-lockdown, I’ve nearly finished the entire Dresden Files series from Jim Butcher. I’ve really only the short story collections to go. So coming upon this new idea for a reading habit could help me ease into whatever I start reading next.
In the book The Choose Yourself Guide to Wealth, author James Altucher suggests that every day you should read:
Additionally, for some very interesting reading, this article from Aug. 6, 2016, the New York Times reveals some of Altucher’s failures that led to his giving advice in the first place.
I worked with a guy who would delete every text message on his phone that didn’t come from his wife. It was an elegant system, in that once the loop was closed, he no longer needed the text message. So het got rid of it.
On the other end of the spectrum, someone like Stephen Wolfram apparently saved basically every scrap of paper he’s ever received, and uses digital backups of all his informational correspondence and projects. It’s databased, and he can basically find just about anything he’s ever worked on, in some form or another.
While I’m at neither extreme, I am defintely closer to Wolfram in the hoarding bits of paper and computer files. I’m nowhere near as technological as he is, but last year I did start scanning documents that I had collected over the years.
This comes up because (while in seclusion), I’ve been cleaning up my computer files some. This time has given me some insight into how I systemize my computer, and my life. Needless to say, it’s been a little messy of late.
But that’s okay! It’s fun to be messy sometimes… as long as you can find what you need.
Deep peace of the running wave to you
Deep peace of the flowing air to you
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you
Deep peace of the shining stars to you
Deep peace of the gentle night to you
Moon and stars pour their healing light on you
Deep peace of Christ the light of the world to you
Deep peace of Christ to you
Michael's Musings 