Regularly I meet with a lady friend, Maria, on Friday afternoons. Now before imaginations run wild I add that our liaison is academic, social and completely 'above board'. Maria runs a creative writing class at the local community hall in Emerald, a pleasant deviation from my normal activity when I can get there. She challenges students to think and explore. A couple of weeks ago the challenge was to make a list of things I fear, then write about something I really love and throw in some of my fears. By embracing both emotions the intensity of what you love increases because of its juxtaposition to what you fear.
I did not find this easy. Firstly, it was drilled into me over years and years that I'm not supposed to be afraid. A male upbringing thing maybe. But thinking about it, I have many fears. Here goes. I fear the loss of my physical abilities and senses. I would loathe to be blind, deaf, or para/quadraplegic, or ill in some way as to not enjoy food, or life. And I fear the same on behalf of my loved ones. These are immediate fears about what happens to people everyday by way of car accidents, diseases and illnesses such as cancer, stroke, heart attack etc, or a severe storm causing a tree or limb to hit house, car or body. And I fear other less direct and immediate things, like environmental calamities such as prolonged drought and degradation of land and sea that may affect us in the future.
So, far from being fearless as I once claimed, I'm easily spooked.
Now to something that I love. My family, my morning walk, the dawn chorus, the garden, trees, good food, wine, a hot bath, reading books. They are all there everyday, and everyday the pleasure is more intense when I think how fortunate I am to have them and be thankful that I haven't lost any of it.
The second part of the challenge was to list my failures then write about my successes.
Three failures spring to mind, but I'm sure there are more.
1. I have no tertiary education qualifications, besides an Advanced Certificate in Apiculture. I'm environmentally conscious but may have been more effective if I was a trained and qualified environmental scientist or engineer for example. Mind you there really wasn't much about in that area in my day, not that I recall anyway.
2. When I was a young boy of 6 or 7 I used to play a game in the back yard where I would arrange a table, chair and paper and pencil and say to my mother that I was going to write poetry. It was always the same, fun setting up, then I couldn't think of anything to write. A bat or ball, or both, soon took the place of pen and paper. Nearly 50 years on I still haven't written one verse of poetry.
3. I never learned to play a musical instrument. My parents insisted I learn the piano when I was a boy but I was hopeless I have to admit.
Now to my success.
Every morning on my walk I give thanks that I'm able to do so. Mind and body are reasonably sound and I have learnt much. I have not succumbed to anything chucked at me yet. They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. And I'm learning still. There is still time for good things. Perhaps the best is yet to come.
Maria once loaned me a book, one of many over time, a collection of essays by Australian author Charmian Clift. In one of these Charmian quoted an old Greek man she met at an ancient temple who said one of the most profound things she'd ever heard, " Nothing worth knowing ever happens further away than a day's mule ride." It reminded her of a saying by Confucius, something like, "A good man makes a good family, a good family makes a good neighbour, a good neighbour makes a good village, a good village makes a good state, a good state makes a good country." I delight in a warm greeting or a hearty wave from my neighbours on my morning walk. Success is different things to different people, which probably depends to some degree on a person's individual history. I won't go into mine now, beyond what I already have, but I'm hoping you've got the drift.
