Imagination doesn't just mean making things up. It means thinking things through, solving [problems] or hoping to do so, and being just distant enough to be able to laugh at things that are normally painful. [Some people] would call this escapism, but they would be be entirely wrong. I would call fantasy the most serious, and the most useful branch of writing there is.
--Diana Wynne Jones

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Loving the Path

I didn't set any New Year's Resolutions this year. Not one. I felt sort of guilty about that for awhile.

Um, not that guilty. Not guilty enough to set any.

I mean, I'm constantly evaluating myself and trying to do better. Maybe too much. And then I decided, maybe goals are overrated. Maybe I spend too much of my time looking forward, wishing, wanting, dissatisfied with myself and others, and not enough time savoring the moment.

Beautiful Mt. Timpanogos. My favorite.
When Robert Persig (Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance) pointed out that it's the sides of the mountain that count, not just the top, he wasn't just talking about hiking.

Maybe that's what I haven't been doing in my life.

Maybe I need to do what my neighbor does: wake up every morning, see the sun or the rain or the snow, and say, I am alive, and that's a gift. And just enjoy whatever the Universe dumps in my lap. Even when it looks like pig poo. Er, perhaps I don't have to be grateful for the pig poo.

I did happen to finish my book this year. But not because I set a goal to do it. I finished because I was doing something I love every day.

I want to find joy. I don't think a list of goals is going to get me there. It's here, now, all around, if I take the time to stop and see it. Rest. Relax. Quit setting so many goals. Learn to love the path as much as the peak.

Ok, that's sounding suspiciously like a goal. So stop it already. Savor, savor.

Playing High and Dry with Sourdough

Lately I've been playing with dough. It's become a sort of a compulsion. Maybe because I'm tired of driving all the way to som...