A digital commonplace for a Regular Guy called Charlie Pharis

Month: October 2015 (page 1 of 1)

Tuesday Morning in Late October…

autumn arrived

Bastian via Compfight

I like baseball, but the World Series should be over before Halloween. “The Boys of November” just doesn’t have the same ring as “The Boys of October.” Likewise, college football, as great as it is, should be done on New Year’s Day. And while we’re at it, why do basketball and hockey seem to last ten months or more?

Grateful this morning for…

  • Apple products.
  • Hamstrings and knees that seem to be getting better.
  • Financial resources to meet our needs.
  • Writing rhythm.
  • Beautiful books.
  • That one true sentence.
  • Encouraging friends, online and in real life. (And who said online friends aren’t real life friends?)
  • Coconut oil (don’t ask).
  • Evernote.
  • Unexpected connections.
  • TV weather people.
  • Christmas music after Labor Day.
  • Fiery red-gold crepe myrtle leaves.
  • The Present.
  • Words.
  • The texture – visual and tactile – of autumn leaves on the ground and the pavement.
  • Autumn in general.

The Present…

The Present. Now.

We look toward the future, plan for it, prepare for it, try to predict it, think of a preferred one, and we neglect this moment, the one in which we have the privilege to live now.

Annie Dillard said of The Present,

These are our few live seasons. Let us live them as purely as we can, in the present.

The Psalmist prayed:

So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.

The Apostle cautioned:

So be careful how you live. Don’t live like fools, but like those who are wise. Make the most of every opportunity in these evil days.

Random Thoughts on Reading and Writing for the Fun of It…

soul music to go

John Greene via Compfight

I started thinking about reading just for the sheer enjoyment of it, about how we – especially we who seek to teach, motivate, or encourage – are very utilitarian in our reading.

Every book, every article, every word has to mean something. There has to be some great principle, some earth-shattering truth which we can impart to our hearers/followers. We read with highlighter in hand, and we look for the snippet, the literary equivalent of a news soundbite, that we can incorporate into our teaching or writing or preaching or other pontificating.

Whatever happened to reading for the sheer pleasure of it? Where did we lose the childlike experience of being so engaged in a book that we lost all track of time, save as it functioned to measure our adventure?

And when did we stop trusting writers – I mean, real writers – to lead us on that kind of adventure? When did we start expecting them to drop those nuggets of factual truth that lend themselves to pontification? Why did we start evaluating writers on their ability to enunciate mere facts without enchanting our imagination along the way?

I’m reading Annie Dillard’s Pilgrim at Tinker Creekand it is a beautiful book. Yet, for all its beauty, it reads like a diversion, a distraction, a long journey with a very observant friend. Yes, there are truths to be gleaned. There are quotes to be used in sermons and social media feeds. Yet, there is a whole lot of sheer joy and enchantment.

I’m not sure I have gained any practical benefit from reading it. But I sure have learned to look around me, to see my surroundings, and to express wonder and delight at the extraordinary ordinary goings-on of life.

I say all that to say I started to write this piece as a post on my mostly-dormant, mostly-ignored blog. While the thoughts were running through my head, I opened the “new post” screen and instead of writing words much like these in this space, I searched for the “perfect” image to go along with the words. As I scrolled through the images in Flickr via the Compfight extension, I became focused on the images and lost the train of thought of the words. That quickly. Just that fast. Once again, I had lost sight of the main thing because I was chasing something secondary.

You see, the “experts” tell us that choosing and using the right image can go a long way toward attracting attention and building our platform. Whatever that means. But I’m more convinced than ever that if we neglect – if I neglect – the act of writing the words, of following my instincts, of listening to my heart, it really won’t matter about the picture. People can find the pictures on their own. I need to be clear on the task at hand: creating the compelling picture with my words.

If I want to write, says I, I need to write. A lot. On a regular basis. The pictures will come in time. The format will take care of itself.

The words. That’s what I want to create. For the sheer joy of it. For the enchantment. For the magic it does for my soul. Then I can invite others to come along for the adventure, and they will share the glory of a dreary Monday evening as we infuse magic and meaning into our surroundings and into our lives.