It was a great thing that happened yesterday.
And I had virtually nothing to do with it. That’s what made it so special. My mind put it all together. And I just stood by and watched.
And, as a bonus, it was less downbeat than usual.
A welcome alternative, don’t you think? From writing about things that can’t change, or things that canbut nobody wants them to so why are we talking about this?
A welcome break from Quixotic futility. And not just for the reader.
Tomorrow, it’s back to “business and usual.” (Because temperament is destiny.) But today, I am bouncing giddily on the front parts of my feet, the back parts going rhythmically up in the air with no idea why that’s happening.
“We like the whole foot on the ground.”
Soon as I’m finished. I promise. Although it is not easy bouncing and typing at the same time. It’s like typing on a ship.
Yesterday morning, on my traditional “Thursday Walk” to the Groundworkcoffee emporium, my mind worked magnificently, with no outside pressure or provocation.
It did it all on its own.
And I amazingly watched it transpire. Or is it “amazedly”? Or is it a completely different word entirely? Oh, dear. You see what happens when you intellectualize too much? You get tied up in knots.
Okay. I’m calm now.
So I go outside for my traditional “Thursday Walk”, and I give my brain this instruction:
“I have a vague notion about today’s blog post. I will now stop thinking, and let you miraculously ‘fill in the blanks.’”
Not that it writes the whole thing. But this perambulatory “Zen Mode” provides useful material that, more often than not, winds up in the post I will inevitably write later and then post on the Internet for immortalizing posterity.
“Grandiose”, but what the heck.
That’s the procedure. I essentially switch my brain to “Play” and recede passively into the background.
Here’s what took place on this particularwalk, though the described phenomenon is rewardingly reliable.
I hear a bird go “Chee-chir-ree.”
And everything instantly changes from that point.
I abandon my intended post idea – which I will likely write later – “Waste not, want not” – and proceed in the direction suggested by the bird.
The bird reminds me of spring, because it’s a returning migrating bird, whose cheery “Chee-chir-ree” had been audially “Missing in Action” since autumn.
From there, my mind totally “Takes the wheel.”
The bird reminds me of spring.
Spring reminds me of the “Signs of Spring” scrapbook project, assigned at The Toronto Hebrew Day School.
Which reminds me of the only otherscrapbook project we were ever assigned, celebrating the coronation of Queen Elizabeth the Second of England.
Which reminds me of the commemorative coin distributed to all the schoolchildren in the (then) British Commonwealth around the world.
Which reminds me that the schoolchildren attending The Toronto Hebrew Day Schooldid not receive a commemorative coin.
Which reminds me that I had never forgotten that unjust exclusion. (Discovered years afterthe discriminatory event.)
Which sparks the idea to write Queen Elizabeth The Second herself, “petitioning” remedial redress for the undelivered commemorative coin.
And so it went. Writing, by virtual “Auto Pilot.” I’m telling you, it was my mindthat said, ”Do it as a letter”, not me.
Iwas just going for coffee.
Anyway, that’s how I got yesterday’s post – one connection leading to another, leading to another, and yet another, and still another, eventually crystalizing into the format for a post, which I went home and immediately typed up.
And I must say, though it took three hours to complete, there was surprisingly minimal revision. (Why did it still take three hours? I don’t know. I guess I’m a really a slow typer.)
You know, I have written, to date, more than 2600 posts. The thing is, if I essentially write what I intended – concisely, coherently, persuasively and, hopefully, somewhat entertainingly – I consider the completed post a success.
In that regard – minus a couple of personal favorites – if you asked me to compile a list of ten or twenty of my “best posts”, I would be unable to do so, considering a large number of them – based on the above-mentioned criteria – equally successful.
Having said that – and at the risk of hurting the other posts’ feelings – I liked yesterday’s blog post a lot. It feels alive and spontaneous, with no discernible patchkying around. (Minimal fingerprints of effort and exertion.)
“A petition to Queen Elizabeth the Second of England requesting the commemorative coin that was never delivered.”
I think it’s really good.
I can say that because I did not essentially write it.
So it’s not entirely bragging if I do.