Go With It
April 30, 2012
One of my counterparts in another state asked me last week, “How do you do it?” He meant, how do I find time to prepare two blog postings every week; and he also meant, how do I find topics for 104 postings each year; and he also meant, how do I go about the actual writing?
As for finding time, it’s no problem; because writing helps me think. It helps me clarify and prioritize. And going public with these thoughts helps me be more certain that I’m committed to the ideas. For me, writing daily is as important as breathing deeply.
As for finding topics, it’s rarely a problem. I find subject matter in what I read, what I hear and what I observe in everyday life and worldwide travel. And I’ve discovered that the richest sources for writing about school sports are often found the furthest from school sports.
And as for the actual technique, I go about it this way: I try to provide a plain circle, and then invite readers to color it however they wish, to use any shade they prefer, to color outside the lines if they think that’s most beneficial to their situation.
When we were children we were praised for coloring within the lines and utilizing the appropriate shades for sun, sky, grass and flowers. These days I just want to provide a blank circle and ask, “What can you do with that?” Not dictating what readers should do, but inviting readers to take an idea and do with it what they will where they live, work and play.
At least that’s what I want to do.
Swimming Lessons
January 19, 2016
I found a place between Christmas and New Year’s Day that was out of Internet reach. For four days and three nights I spent most of the days in the water looking downward into an ocean of coral canyons surrounded by swarms of colorful fish, and much of the nights on the open deck of a catamaran looking up at a nearly full moon moving between stars and swirling clouds. Here is some of what I learned from experiences, rather than from Google, on those days.
First, flying fish really do fly, on average, about the length of a football field.
Second, sea urchins have an edible element, if the spiny critters are smoked in a fire of coconuts and palm fronds and then soaked in saltwater, and if you are either desperately marooned on some remote island or just trying to be nice to the local residents you just met who believe the urchin's slimy, salty core is a delicacy that hospitality requires be shared and graciousness demands be appreciated.
And, more relevant to the work we share that I tried unsuccessfully to tune out for these four days, I learned ...
What you see in the ocean is distorted until you put on your goggles and get beneath the surface of the water. Getting beneath the surface of things is necessary for clear vision.
What you see first is likely to be the flashy fish, while the greater significance is observed more slowly in what appears to be their inanimate habitats, which turn out to be alive with movement if you wait and watch for it. Patience is necessary for clear vision.
The wavy six-inch line of purple coral was really the lips of a large clam that actually separate a fraction of an inch every minute or so to take in the nourishment of the sea. The brown stump below it was really a sea cucumber that actually moves an inch or two a day to vacuum the ocean floor. I saw none of this until I got beneath the surface, and waited.