Thursday, October 18, 2012

I’m an idea person. People with ideas fall into two categories: Organized and driven and scattered and joyfully distracted. I am the latter. Whenever someone asks me if there is more to life or if I think I should be doing something else the answer in my brain is always “yes” because I know I can and will do more. I may not have arrived at my previously planned or scheduled destination but the side trips have been amusing even when sprinkled with light showers of annoyance, self-indulgence and passive-aggressive monotony at times. As the worn saying goes: “shit happens” but I made a promise to myself long ago that even if I should occasionally step in it I’d at least take the time to stop and change my shoes so I could continue on with my adventure without having to smell the old putrid memories with each new step.
“I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.” ~ Douglas Adams, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul
Many, many fanciful thoughts, ideas, images and plans romp through my mind at any given moment. Some are plausible and others border on absurd yet, they remain tucked into the corners to be lovingly revisited at a later date. I rarely write things down aside from my “love letters” to you, dear readers because I’m more of a spontaneous creator, a “doer” who flies by the well-worn seat of her pants to destinations I have no control over but adore none the less. Those who don’t “get it” call it daydreaming nonsense or worse but I know it for what it really is: Imagination. The world lacks this in greater and greater quantities with each passing day and scoff at those who continue to turn original thoughts into reality rather than pulling from the well of the rehashed and overtly recycled. Building on a dream is my preferred method and while it may take me longer than those seeking shortcuts and “cheats” it still gets me to the place I need to be. Always. So, better late than never.

                                   "Keep trying. Eventually you will get off the ground..."

Is there more to life? It depends on what you mean by more. More money, success and fame or are we speaking on a higher, more emotional level? A lofty plane or dimensional space of deeper meaning and understanding about how life really isn’t as hard as some make it out to be? Life just IS, no degree of difficulty is intentionally added just because we breathe, no need for any additional dramatic descriptive, it just occurs whether we are sleeping or awake. It isn’t something that happens to us it’s something we make happen and when people claim, “Life is just a bitch and then you die,” could it possibly be that what’s really the bitch is that they, themselves, created the conflict but are too afraid to take responsibility so they blame life instead? It’s both scary and exhilarating to realize that we truly are the architects of our own lives and when we build with care the foundations we leave act to support future creation, innovation and imagination. When we slap things together with ideas stolen from others and the duct tape of "good enough" no foundation has been built at all, it's only an illusion.
The "things" we accumulate help us hide from our inner calling whether those things are negative memories from the past or material possessions stacked up around us like a fort built on envy, guilt and debt. The walls come crashing down eventually and all we are left with is the one thing we originally came into this world with…ourselves. Yes, we could get off on another tangent, ride a whole different bus to a town that approaches the topic of “the meaning of life” in an entirely different and maybe even intentionally complicated way but when push comes to shove, that bus still goes right back to the same station each night…YOU. There is more to life: we need to live more or better yet live, period! When we see thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions of people even, just existing rather than living the question that begs to be asked is this: If life is simply about being, living, loving and taking in each daily breath like an intoxicating drink of imaginative excitement then why do we fight so hard to keep from living? What is so frightening about being real? I have an answer, do you?

© 2012 Laura A. Askew, All Rights Reserved

As a gentle reminder: People who steal the creative property of others deserve to be kicked in the tingly bits by a pissed off writer well versed in street fighting. In plain English: Don't steal my stuff!