Philosophical Meanderings of My Mind

This post Christmas/New Year season has become a sit around and do not much time. Today is Sunday, and I’m usually in Gawler in the late morning on Sundays, doing a poetry workshop with another person, or other people, but that isn’t happening today, so the first session for 2018 is more likely to happen next Sunday instead. I hadn’t planned that, but in not planning it, I was probably subconsciously planning it not to happen. I don’t/can’t know for sure, and it doesn’t matter, really, I don’t think.  I’ve had some outside time, and am now inside again, at home, and happy with that, even though it’s just a small thingmissy slightly bemused.
Staying home today, the only poetry written, if any, will be done here, with the cricket on TV and radio as the background for the day … And trips outside of course, as requested by Missy. Missy is currently lying on her sofa, looking extremely comfortable, eyes closed, ears erect, but not active … I just slapped the sofa next to me, and her eyes opened, eats turned to me, then away, and she rolled over and now has her back to me and my silliness. She’s not huffy at me, just not that interested in what I’m doing. That’s fine, we have our own lives, to some extent, the humans and the dog, and we’re enjoying our lives, together or separate.
Out of the window on my left I can see clouds, grass, plants and birds, all doing their own natural thing, obeying the rules of Nature, which make more sense to me than some of the rules of the cricket … With Nature, there is no appeal to a higher authority, because if Nature says it is so, then it is. If something other that humans were expecting, it means Nature wasn’t using the rule we thought was being used. Science may find the answer, people may think they have the answer. Much may be written, thought on, argued over, but Nature will just continue on, and we must manage as best we can, with whatever Nature and mankind do next …
There were sparrows outside, on the front lawn, about ten minutes ago, when I started writing this post. I can’t see any now, but I’m sure there are certainly lots of sparrows out there, back yard, front yard, in the trees and bushes and just everywhere. Sparrows are very successful occupants of our world. They have their needs, and seem to be able to fulful those needs well. The sparrows I saw earlier seemed to be adolescents, not quite up to adult size, and I’ve been noticing such not quite adult sparrows, and thinking about what they get up to, boy and girl sparrows, getting on with their lives, boy groups, girl groups, boys sparrows seemingly crashing into the girls groups, while girl sparrows flitter away, only to be followed and annoyed by the boy sparrow.
I’m quite likely putting my own interpretation on these actions of the sparrows, and could well be getting it entirely wrong. I’ve written a haiku about these matters previously, and it’s in my poetry collection “Tense and Still”, where I wrote about various creatures I see in my life, whether our dogs, cats I’ve seen, known, imagined, or those wild creatures I come across in my life or my travels or in my imaginings.
Thinking about these things whether I uncover the truth or not, helps me to gather ideas, things to think about can lead to things to write about, and writing about things is the thing I do. I am a writer, a poet, a blogger. Words are my tools, and I love to use these tools in the many different ways possible to use them. Poetry is my favourite method, certainly preferred over writing a novel, because of course a poem can be thought on, written, edited and published very quickly. A novel takes so much longer to complete. I have one of those ‘in progress’ at the moment, but I have a strong suspicion this novel will make only very slow progress, because I’m allowing myself to do many things other than the writing of this novel …
above the fish pond
I know being a novelist isn’t really a title I feel fits with me, the way being a poet does. The longer form of literature feels too unwieldy perhaps for me to handle. I know how to put together and publish a poetry collection, and how to market it. A small book of poetry can be printed in small numbers, and sold in small numbers, and small numbers of people get a little book of my poems to read and think about. It will never make me rich or particularly famous, but that’s fine. Money and fame are not what I write for, I write for my own amusement, and the small amounts of money/fame I gain while nice to have, will never be the major thing.

Writing Group Theme

I am a member of a weekly writing group. We meet on a Thursday night, or have done up until this week. Last week we decided to meet on Monday night instead, so that one of the members who’s work kept him unavailable now on Thursday nights, could attend.

I was fine with this new arrangement, and set off on Monday evening to meet up with two other members to then journey on to the home where the meeting would be held.   It was a good plan…

The reality, however, was not good. I was on the Gawler bypass, travelling in a southerly direction, when I ran over some truck tyre debris. I lost my steering and hit the safety fencing in the centre of the road, thereby avoiding a terrible crash. Instead my car spun around and I ended up stopped on the other side of the road, the passenger side, where it was safe.

I saw a car pull up behind and I stayed there, thinking about the situation. I was unhurt, but I was sure the car was damaged. The wonderful woman who stopped came over to my car and invited me to go and sit in her car while she rang the police. I was happy to do as she suggested.

The woman, told me she was Amy, I told her my name and we both waited for the police. Amy said she saw the whole thing, and the accident wasn’t my fault. Another woman arrived and then another man. The second woman was Maggie and the man’s name may have been Roger, I’m not sure. All of them were lovely and helpful. Roger cleared away the bits that had fallen from my car.

When the police officer arrived, Amy told him what she saw. He asked me what happened, and he called the ambulance. Two ambos arrived eventually and checked me out. They were prepared to take me to the hospital if I felt I needed it. I said I felt was physically OK and was told to call them again if I felt worse at all.

All of these people were lovely, and I wasn’t made to feel a fault at all. I was left with only the police officer eventually. We waited for my husband Graham to arrive, and the tow truck to arrive too. The car was completely unable to be driven.

I had rung my writing group to tell them I wasn’t coming to the meeting, and the reason why. I also rang my husband so he could come and take me home.

The writing group often sets a theme for the  next meeting, and I was amused the following day to find out the theme was going to be ‘Cars’. I certainly have a few new things to write about cars.

As a writer, I take my life’s experiences and use them in my writing. I’m thinking about cars right now, the thoughts spinning around in my head like my car was spinning around on the road on Monday night. I’m glad a few things from Monday night – I was wearing my seat belt, the safety fence did its job well, I wasn’t injured, no-one else was involved and I met some lovely people.

Now I just have to wait for my insurance company to decide what happens with the car, and my life can get back to normal. I’m glad to have told this story – always wear your seat belt when you’re in the car!