Tag: nothing new under the sun

It’s All Been Done

It amuses and befuddles me how life works. Okay. How the Universe works. And even more explicitly than that. How the Universe often comes up with messages meant just for me at the very moment I need them. What’s up with that?

Lest this sound wildly narcissistic, do not imagine I believe myself to be any different than any other human being in this respect.

I believe we all get guidance and messages from “somewhere” about how best to live our lives. I am not at all certain where that “somewhere” is actually located. It might be internal guidance from deep within us. That “still, small voice” of Biblical fame.

It might be from somewhere in the Universe “out there.” Though I admit that concept is a little flaky. Especially if you think about it. Not something you can see, touch or visit.

The concept of god is equally flaky if you think about that for too long either. Explain?

“Well, he has a long grey beard and lives in Heaven and doles out favors and punishments as he sees fit in his all-seeing and all-knowing wisdom. And he makes the call about when you die.” Ya. Well. Okay.

The peace I have made with these “messages” we receive and their attribution is that “something” (not necessarily someone) created all of what is around us. Created “us,” in fact.

And I have no more insight into how it all came about and keeps going than I do into advanced calculus. Or even basic calculus come to think of it.

So I was moved to write about this subject today thanks to my friends of a couple of years now at KN Literary Publishing Services. Today in an email, they shared three quotes.

Which quote feels like exactly what you needed to hear today?

Hi Margot!

#1: “If you let yourself tell those smaller anecdotes or stories, the overarching capital-S Story will eventually rise into view.” — Mary Karr, The Art of Memoir

#2: “You must remember that your story matters. What you write has the power to save a life, sometimes that life is your own.” ― Stalina Goodwin, Make It Write!

#3: “The writer’s life requires courage, patience, empathy, openness. It requires the ability to be alone with oneself. Gentle with oneself. To be disciplined, and at the same time, take risks.” — Dani Shapiro, Still Writing

I am a long-time fan of memoirist Mary Karr. Normally I would choose her quote just because she is so damn smart and most of what she writes is so totally on point.

But I chose #2. Maybe because lately my faith is ebbing a little in this blog writing exercise. Maybe because I well realize my voice is only one of millions out there.

Millions of others are cranking out musings and insights and selling their expertise and knowledge like a mid-West US land office in the late 1800s (in the “real” world and marketplace).

The last line of Stalina Goodwin’s quote served up a timely reminder for me: I write for myself. Yes, in part, to save myself.

Or maybe in the hope I will impart to nameless others how I saved myself. Like the lines on looseleaf, I write every day to capture what I need to stay within those lines.

That is the power of ritual. It is easy to fall off or away from our chosen path if we simply stop doing it. In the past, I have done exactly that. I lived for long, fallow periods in a creative desert where my most intentional act was getting up and out of bed each morning. Depression is a total creative buzzkill.

So thinking back on those “dry” days reenergizes me somewhat. I know it doesn’t mean a tinker’s dam whether I write this daily blog post or not. But here is what I do know.

I know for sure that others feel exactly the same way. Not about blog posts, perhaps, but about going to the office or factory or church or staying in their marriage or even getting up and going out of the house every day.

I know with certainty that most others occasionally question their worth, inherent value and what meaning their life has on this planet.

And just as we all must breathe air, drink water and eat regularly to survive, we need to nurture and regularly revisit what gives our lives meaning. Stop any of these actions for too long and life as we know it (as well as any hope for future creative expression) stops.

As I read further into KN Literary’s observations on the quote I chose, I learned questions of meaning is generic to spiritual writers in particular. And spiritual writers – they caution – are rarely “overnight successes.” Not that that is what I am going for.

The most resonant takeaway was that the wisdom spiritual writers share must be their own. My life has been influenced – and yes, even saved – by dozens of wise and spiritual writers whose works I stumbled across just when I needed them.

What an honor it would be to think that someone read something of mine and it gave them the insight they need to make a difficult and necessary step to move forward in their life.

The lyrics in one of the Barenaked Ladies most iconic songs, says: “It’s all been done before.” The song is largely about the cyclical nature of life and love. It suggests that everything we do and experience has happened before and will inevitably happen again. 

So I know what I write about has been explored and written about many times before. So what? It is undoubtedly true, as good ol’ King Solomon opined: “There is nothing new under the sun.” Or, as good ol’ Will Shakespeare put it, “Therein lies the rub”.

But not everything “under the sun” has been explored or written about by me. So I’ll keep at it for that reason alone, if no other presents.

With that, me and the Universe rest our case.

Oxpecker Haven

My good friend Dale Estey and I decry the fact that – as we’ve grown older – we’ve come to realize there really is “nothing new under the sun.” There are few stories or facts so amazing or unique or unpleasant that we haven’t heard of them before – in some variation.

It’s a truism nailed in Ecclesiastes 1:9.

“What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.” Ecclesiastes 1:9

It is true there is little – fantastic or horrific – that shocks or surprises me now. Folks be crazy. So many stories or objects feel like attempted recreations of familiar and well-worn themes. Stories follow well-worn paths to eventual resolution. Products ebb and flow in supermarkets and box stores. There is a certain sameness to them all, in spite of the come-ons promising “new and improved.”

My husband is an artist. For his doctor friend Dr. Marc Blasser, Hank painted a portrait of a rhino in situ on the plains of Africa. The rhinoceros is a special symbol for Marc. (His email handle is “King Rhino” for heaven’s sake. He is clearly committed.)

So when my husband delivered the painting some years back, Marc admired the finished product but, upon closer inspection, stared quizzically at the painting and asked: “Where are my oxpeckers?”

When my husband told me this story, I was a little taken aback. Oxpeckers? Seriously? Well, yes. They are a real thing. See all those little guys on the back of that hippo below? That’s them.

I knew vaguely of a symbiotic relationship that existed among African wildlife with some kind of birds. I did not know – until this recent conversation – what they were called.

Large African animals of many varieties – rhinos, hippopotami, giraffes, gazelle, water buffalo, et. al. – have an implicit deal with the oxpeckers. The large animals tolerate what might otherwise be the incessant and annoying presence of the birds.

The oxpeckers peck away at will on the lumbering beasts to rid their skin of pests, such as lice and ticks, and a variety of other savory and tasty bugs. In return for this favor, the animals do not kill the oxpeckers outright with a swat of their massive tails (like giraffes might do) or eradicate them en masse by suddenly submerging them under water without warning, (as in the case of hippopotami). That would be biting the bill that feeds off them.

It is a symbiotic and mutually beneficial relationship between beast and bird that you might be able to identify with if you’ve ever been covered with unwanted masses of lice or ticks. Personally, I have not.

Inspired by this story and the delightful and unusual moniker of these birds, I set out to integrate them into our life on a more permanent basis. We are in a new house and needed to set up a new internet domain. Oxpeckers Haven, I thought. Perfect.

There won’t be another domain name in the neighborhood to match it and it will likely cause the same sort of delighted comment that I had. Maybe a laugh or two, I mused.

Oxpecker. I admit I did not initially recognize the potentially obscene connotation. As it turned out, oxpeckers would not pass the internet service provider’s censors. Then I thought about it. Oh right. Well, it wasn’t as if I tried to call the domain name “bull’s penis” or somesuch. Maybe that would have made it through. I guess the offense was the suggestion of vulgarity.

I was doomed by the authority of the ignorant and presumptuous ISP censor. I was forced to concede that ours would not be the new internet home of Oxpeckers Haven. We chose a more banal, if personally meaningful to my husband, domain name: PanAmRTW. That may well be the subject of a blog post up the road.

Pity the poor oxpeckers. I sadly came to realize why I would never have learned about oxpeckers in geography class at the conservative and prudish school system where I received my elementary education.

Which, in the humble opinion of this lowly scribe, is bullpuckey.