Unless otherwise noted, Copyright
James C. Hess
2009. All Rights Reserved. Published by Thinking Rock Press, with written permission from the author.
RUINS AND REMAINS mark the path leading to the future and the past.
A sun-faded green cattle gate separates them, but offers no indication as to which is which, and, because the path leading to each is a mirror image of the other to the horizon, there is no immediate way to know which one leads where.
Because of this fact there is but one option: Make a choice, and commit to it.
In time the consequences of actions taken will become apparent.
A person who considers themselves clever might believe the choice to be made could be done by way of the sun: The sun rises in the east. Therefore, the path leading to the east is the path to the future.
Conversely, the sun sets in the west. Therefore, the path leading to the west is the path to the past.
But this logic is not true if advice once given to those seeking the future is considered: Go West.
And given the path at hand runs north-south the logic previously applied is negated.
Choose. The path to the future or the past awaits.
On a fairly regular basis I am asked if I have the desire to 'go home again'.
It's an odd question, I believe. And I explain my prejudice toward it with the following sure-footed and self-assured reply: How would that be possible? I am home.
No, no, my inquisitor stammers. Don't you want to go home? Back to the place you grew up?
Back to the place you grew up.
What a curious utterance, I muse. Especially when you consider the true and inherent meaning of the phrase itself.
Now had the question been phrased: Don't you want to go back to the town you lived in growing up?
My reply would be: No.
But that's another matter for another time.
Let's instead go with the question as first posed: Don't you want to go back to the place you grew up.
Back to the place you grew up.
Well. . .
Hmm. . .
Ruins and remains mark the path leading to the future and the past.
A sun-faded green cattle gate divides them, but offers no indication as to which is which, and because the path leading to each is a mirror image of the other to the horizon there is no immediate way to know which one leads where.
An interesting fact about that gate, on the path between the future and the past: It is not attached to a fence. There is no evidence a fence attaching to the gate ever existed. Without this particular context that gate is a curiousity, at best. Without a fence to support it, to define, to give it meaning and value and purpose the gate is out of place.
Or is it?
Don't you want to go back? Back to the place you grew up?
Many years ago, by way of seeking advice from a Writer whose work I admired, I was informed I would never become a successful Writer because my life was 'too white-bread.' (His words, not mine.) My life, I was assured, was a sheltered existence. Because it was I would never succeed as a Writer.
Of course, if I wanted to succeed as a Writer, I was advised, I should get out, and live life to its fullest.
Don't you want to go back? Back to the place you grew up?
I have several projects underway presently, including one involving human nature, Charles Dickens, William Shakespeare, Baxter Black, Stephen King, Mark Twain, Howard Hawks - just to name a few.
The scope of this project is to gain not only an understanding of what I call The Moment, but a full and complete understanding of The Moment. That moment in a given life when everything has bottomed out, when things cannot possibly get any worse, and things. . . get better. Not because of an arbitrary event called 'a miracle', or because of intervention by politicians, but because the person whose life is ruined and little remains, suddenly decides enough is enough, and decides the only out, the only choice is up.
The Moment.
Don't you want to go back? Back to the place you grew up?
I am pragmatic by nature, which means I tend to believe in black and white constructs. For example, I believe certain things cannot happen until other things happen prior.
Simply, I don't want to go back. Back to the place I grew up. I don't want to go back because I have yet to leave it. Oh, I grew up. But I'm where I was when I grew up. When I had what I consider to be The Moment. The Moment when my life bottomed out, and the only choice I had when it came to getting out was up.
As I write this a lot of people are finding themselves almost at the bottom of their lives. They have lost good-paying jobs. They have lost houses and cars and savings. Their lives have been reduced to ruins and little remains of what was, and they don't believe any choices for them exist.
But one does.
A choice based on a representation presented as a sun-faded green cattle gate located along a path. A gate you must pass to realize the choice that exists.
Therein is a challenge: Which way do you go in relation to this gate? Which way is the past and which way is the future?
I can't tell you that, even though I know. I won't tell you because inherent in the choice that awaits is the truth itself. To know the truth at hand requires accepting the responsibility of your actions.
A fact that far too many have refused to embrace for far too long, and that is why they find themselves where they do.
Presently the world is a big mess. I believe the mess will get worse before it gets better. But in order for the world to get better, and the mess at hand to be resolve, action on the individual level must take place.
Action on the individual level that takes place in the form of artistic pursuit. Specifically, writing.
Writing qualifies. Writing quantifies. Writing is theraputic. Writing is a form of expression. Writing is the realization of the Self. Writing is the presentation of definition and form.
But - and this is the important disclaimer - writing is not the solution to the problems that face many presently. But it is a tool that can lead you to a better life. Embrace and take a journey that can and will lead you everywhere.