NATURAL WORLD REFLECTIONS

Inspired by the observations and Meditations of Mary Oliver

Out In The World

It was imperative that I ventured out into the world when I was young. Moving two thousand miles from my childhood home meant giving up, and going back was not a practical option. With new relationships, I had to discover who I really was.  Questions about my heritage came up often. Conversations about community, environment, education, and ethnicity were all laid before me. I had to decide who I was, what I believed, and how I wanted to live my life.  This exercise was an essential step over time between a home I was born into and a home I was building for myself.

Some may believe that women should stay at home until they are married, but I encourage parents to desist from this notion.  To this day, I remember a life where I was responsible for myself and myself alone. I remember being brave, responsible, cautious, free, creative, and bold.  All the qualities that have lessened since living with someone else, sharing the load, and no longer having to be the only person responsible for myself all the time.  But there are times I am alone—traveling myself or when my husband travels for work, etc.  In these moments, I recall my time alone, how I managed without support, and having confidence in my abilities.  These are powerful truths that cross over into my creative work, my attitude as a mother and my involvement in the community.  If I had not ventured out in the world alone, I don’t know who I would have been today.


Helping the World move forward

Something powerful about reading books from a hundred years ago or two hundred years ago is finding the same themes that we grapple with today. Women are finding an even footing, fighting against societal norms, political corruption, and the complexities of human nature—questions about good vs evil, morality, happiness, and suffering. Art, writing, photography, and any creative endeavor that explores life's complexities and moves people’s hearts for years to come is an objective I strive to achieve in my own work. 

Perhaps this longing for a continuation of the conversation on prejudice, ideas about absolute happiness, philosophy about nature, and mankind’s place in the world is what drives me to continue writing, even when I struggle to stick with the practice.  I may not be an expert on human behavior or the ecological factors of today. Still, I do want to explore ideas utilizing fictitious characters to live out the ideas that consume my mind.  I hope to be part of the movement of those continuing conversations, giving more life to ideas that propel us forward into the future. 


Writing with simplicity and elegance

One of the reasons I finally stepped outside my usual circle for feedback is the difference between my husband and me on the usefulness of language. He loses interest when I try to use elegance in my writing, but I also struggle to capture my characters' authentic voices. Balancing the push for more sophisticated language with the need for simplicity is a tricky tightrope to walk. 

I remember, when I was younger and living in Chicago, having a conversation with some young men about the use of language. My friend, who happened also to be a painter, a fellow creative, joined me in arguing about the profound importance of using words like joyous, glowing, delight, elation, bliss, and rapt to describe a happy state.  The young men wondered why the word happy was not sufficient.  

Afterward, my mind recollected Orwell’s 1984 and the systematic employment of using the word “good” and if something were better than good, then the term would be “good +1”, then “good +2 and so on. This oversimplification of language, robbing the populace of an abundance of words that very much have their use, was a glimpse into a terrifying future or a sad example of the lack of appreciation of language and the misguided understanding of the power of words.


Solitude in Nature

Where can I go to find greenery, flowing streams, and wildlife, free from the sound and touch of mankind? Recently, two main themes have surfaced in the books I’ve been reading—solitude and nature. I’ve been drawn to writings by David Grayson, Annie Dillard, John Muir, Robin Wall Kimmerer, and Mary Oliver to seek some sense of peace through reading. I thought this longing would ease with my trips to the Smoky Mountains and later to Washington State. However, I found that many people also want to be out in nature, on busy streets, and surrounded by noise, even on some trails.

The difficulty in finding solitude in nature in a chaparral like San Diego is this utter lack of vegetation and the distance to get away from everyone.  During the summer months (July-October), we generally do not get any rain.  Most creeks are dry, waterfalls are nonexistent, and what remains is dust and heat. The environment is ill-equipped to provide the responsiveness I need to be restored.  For now, my escape may have to be in books and nature sounds, with an attempt to deceive my brain into thinking that I am walking in a green pasture or along the edge of a forest, with a rushing stream hidden in the depths of the woods. The next task will be how to find solitude in a world that is constantly humming with activity.


Worlds unknown and even feared

“Write what you know” is a popular maxim that guides both professionals and amateurs on how to start the writing process. However, it also offers an opportunity for writers to explore unknown worlds, untraveled roads, and unchallenged philosophies. Delving into new information and immersing oneself in a story are both excellent ways to experience things that would never happen in real life.  

On the other hand, a writer can explore the dark, unthinkable, fear-driven ideas that haunt their waking minds or terrify them in their dreams. Unchecked, this fear could lead to stress, paranoia, and become debilitating. However, turning these fears into a story, where the characters face fates we dare not imagine, acts as a conduit—transferring our fears to others, even if those ‘others’ are imaginary.