The resolution was to post every day without fail as this was my personal record tracking my use of imagination as a means of tracking the third semester of my allotted “four score and ten.” Sigh! I couldn’t manage to string words into a sentence. Once upon a time, somewhere someone stated forcefully “there is no such thing as writer’s block.”
It’s true. I certainly can’t claim writer’s block. I lacked the stamina for noodling through half-baked ideas and pushing limp words into sentences until one morphs into a paragraph.
For seventy-four years, I asked myself “if I don’t write up to my standards, should I write at all?” If one can’t write deathless prose, what is the point of writing at all? Personally speaking, the point of “getting my hands dirty” putting words on paper is that I learn to appreciate good writing. I have certainly stumbled across some great writing that will never appear on the curriculum of a university English. Except for mine of course.
There are books that I read three times for the story then five more times to analyze and admire how the author constructs sentences, or establishes a mood or arcs a small recurring event through the story until it explodes as the turning point of the novel.
Here’s a thought. What fun it might be teaching my own English class, using my own favorite books as a curriculum.
Hot Damn, it’s the first week of March: meaning that I have missed fifty-one days of practicing imagination posting my experiences therewith (now there is pompous word.)
I’ve been toying with this idea for three years now, but never committed to serious practice of it. Nevertheless, my spasmodic attention led me to Neville Goddard.
Listening to his lectures (courtesy of You Tube), as well as reading his publications convinced me take the creative powers of imagination seriously. For the remainder of the year, I am committing myself to daily practice of imagination-putting my heart into it.
It certainly provides a focus for my life at a point where I need a passionate reason for being. The “Year of Covid-19” plunked me into a state of drifting. Not only did I not know what week it was, I didn’t know what I was doing here.
After all, I don’t have endless time and I desire a path to follow with dedication as it provides the core around which to build days filled with satisfaction, fun and all-around happiness.
What are the star moments for today? Discovering Neville Goddard recordings on You Tube: listening to him confirmed that ‘Imagination’ is truly a vehicle to living a happy and satisfying life. His words support everything that Abraham is saying by way of Esther Hicks.
Apricots again after three years
Last, but not least: the happy discovery of the apricot tree filled with fruit, many of which are ripe enough for picking.
My dreams, at least the ones I remember, arrive in the early morning, rattle around for a second or two, then exit leaving no trace. This morning’s dream lingered. It did more than linger; it clamored for attention. A set of serious men in grey suits were interviewing me for a job. They asked what school I attended before transferring to UCLA.
I was flooded with memories of my time there, yet I simply could not recall the name of that school. It was a prestigious school, with a name once as familiar to me as my own. As I failed again and again to capture that elusive name, my distress increased. Finally, I just gave up, thinking that my three years at UCLA had to satisfy the interviewers.
The moment I woke up, I knew immediately that I had attended Otero Junior College for a year. However, the memories I was recalling while dreaming were vivid memories of an experience I never experienced in a school I never attended. Nevertheless, I felt there was validity in the experience.
If there were anything more to that dream than simple reverberations from my recent reading then I leave it to my subconscious to sort, while I go clean the bathroom.