It’s 8: 49 am and the gold of the day is already turning a bright white.
As I walk through the Mystic Garden, I appreciate what is, and what’s to come, although these shapes have not yet taken form. These anxieties visited on most writers as fear, what business do they have in our lives?
Should I fear the inevitable, and what is inevitable anyway? Most would answer, “Death and taxes.” I would argue that one should come before the other, “taxes and death”, but it’s apparent that taxes out live death. Warn the family.
Today I have decided to relinquish fear. For one, I’m already writing. I know this because I can see the words in front of me. Always good news.
Secondly, there’s a nagging at the base of my skull. I suspect the thought of impending bills might do that. Yet both these things are good. If I’m not writing, I’m not alive. If I’m not paying bills, I’m not alive. Conundrum you say?
Exactly! Life is like that. Expect the unexpected, and timber that holding thought with faith in the best outcome. These are by no means dark thoughts, but a mere appreciation of the calm as well as the storm. As I prepare to “observe my mind and find the Buddha within it”, I remember one of my favorite movies to date — Bladerunner. It’s not fun and upbeat by any means, but it asks the question (also the title of the book from which it’s made) Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
Which brings me to the idea of memories. No matter what the event, we have a choice as to how we view and respond to incidents in the phenomenal world. The touch and fragrance of these memories remain with us and color our existence. It does matter where they go after we go. It does matter what we do and record before we go. Words have the power to move, to encourage, to embolden, to soothe, to inspire. Who are we to question either the calm or the storm, when both are gifts from the gods?
Today, for example, as the screenplay I’m writing with my partner advances so do the daily rain of anxieties, sometimes falling softly. I remember that they are necessary agents that power my writing gold, just as they power my life gold.
A few quotes from Philip K. Dick, author of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?: