Interests

To whom it may concern:

Pardon the pun, but "interests" is an interesting word. While I suppose one could parse it down until it's no fun any more, but I'll resist a former temptation because I'm here to inform, rather than debate. So, I'm going to treat the term as synonymous with "things I enjoy": or "these are a few of my favorite things" if you will pardon my tongue being firmly planted in my cheek. 

Seriously tho, typically I place reading at the top of any list of interests. I live for books. To me they are the life of the mind, and certainly the mind of my life. Similarly, given the amount of time I've spent commuting in my life, music also plays a huge role, thanks to the invention of various players for automobiles. And nothing helps me wind down after a long week like relaxing and watching a good movie. However, since Blogger asked about books, music, and movies separately, I'll discuss them separately as well in future posts. Conspicuous by it's absence is Art. Wonder why. I'll likely post on it too, eventually, altho for me, art is a much more difficult topic to pin down or comment on. We'll see how that goes. For this post, tho, I'll limit myself to the interests I have which fall outside these three (4 if you count Art). Thus, for now, let me describe my favorite things in the physical, intellectual, and what I can only describe as the spiritual realms.

When it comes to living in the physical world, I do, or have enjoyed a long run on a brisk winter morning, falling into rhythm with my feet and breathing, keeping mental cadence as I rap to myself about issues in my mind. The spring reminds me that I'm in step, no pun intended, with nature as I run thru the budding foliage. Summer pushes me to the limits as I finish exhausted and soaked, not a dry nano-meter on my body, but feeling rewarded for a job well done. Autumn simply helps me recover and enjoy the slowing down of life. In many ways, running was my life. There are and were so many analogies which naturally flow from the experiences of long distant running. I hope to take it back up soon.

When not running, there's nothing as exhilarating or rewarding as a 50+ mile bike ride where I can almost put it on auto-pilot while cruising with the wind in my face and nothing but the sound of nature all around. Throw in some challenging climbs and the accompanying descents, decent so fast that the tears roll out of my eyes uncontrollably, and I'm a happy man.  

Give me a bit of technology and another crisp winter morning and nothing awakens me like boring a hole in a clear blue sky after having brushed the frost from the wings of a two place airplane. The thrill and freedom of riding the currents and whims of my heart as it mirrors the winds, makes life take on a different quality from the world below. At times like these, I feel like the luckiest man in the world to be able to fly. Maybe sailing does the same thing for the sailor, sans the cold winter air, but as I don't sail, so I'll leave it to you sailors out there to contemplate the comparison.

Or back on earth, pack my bags, fuel up my car, ease my loved one into the passenger seat, and drive all day brings an ease which is hard to duplicate for sheer ease and comfort. No where in particular, just go "that" way until we've both talked ourselves tired. Then stop for the night to sleep. Next morning, get up and do it again in a lazy meander across the country, stopping at interesting places with no particular agenda in mind. And no schedules! Again, freedom of the best kind. Maybe all my endeavors center around that theme.

Moving into the intellectual realm, I love board and card games with a near fanatical passion. My mother always said that Chess was my first love. Of course, she also said that about flying. Regardless, nothing beats a quiet, comfortable room, a worthy opponent, a few hours to kill, and one colossal clash of minds and wills. The stronger and better matched my opponent is the better I play, the more fiercely I concentrate, and the more deeply I enjoy the competition. And yes, a draw is typically more satisfying than a win, and carries none of the devastation of a loss.

I'll not elaborate much here, but I love, in much the same way as games, and for many of the same reasons, the challenge of Theology and Philosophy. While this might be confused with reading books by some, one actually "does" philosophy to hear the philosophers tell it. However, the main tools in the bag of the thinker are simply his brain, time, patience, and a few lucky breaks from books and experiences. Most of my serious opinions were forged over a drive home from work or on a long run. This is an activity which cannot be done merely by reading books. Altho, books can and do lend fuel and often clarity to the practice, at the end of it all, like learning anything, both fields must be "done" individually and internally. While both disciplines can be researched, and much time is saved in reading the great thinkers who've gone before, generally one contemplates the mysteries and struggles alone. Yes, it can be a bit lonely at times, but the rewards of self-discovery are astounding. Maybe these are my true first loves. I've done both for as long as I can recall.

Next comes music. It's a field which is difficult to assign. It's highly physical, acutely mental, and deeply spiritual. So it spans all the categories I'm using today. So I place it here for lack of a better place. And while not overly musical, I do play meditative music on Whistles of all sorts (including Recorders), the Shakuhachi, and the Indian Bansuri. While not terribly good at them, the breath control required helps me center and relax.

Lastly, the category I have no adequate name for. Maybe we can agree to call it spiritual so long as we don't push it too far into the realm of religion; altho, I've been there a lot and might go there again before all is said and done. It could simply be that all I do naturally and intuitively, innately even?, gravitates towards the spiritual. At least I'm seeing a pattern here. Nevertheless, I have no other word for what follows, so we'll lump the remaining items under the rubric of a generic spiritual consciousness since I do them for no other reason than that intangible something far superseding the acts themselves.

To begin, while I would not ever claim to have written anything good or wise, I do enjoy that side of the life of the mind called writing. Francis Bacon once said, and I'm hyper-paraphrasing here, something about writhing enabling one to focus and articulate what one thinks. Another has said that "writing allows us to talk to one another over distances and over time." If nothing else, it's helped me to do those things. I do love stringing words together. There are times when the cadence and or the sounds become more important to my ear than the meaning to my mind. Maybe there's a bit of poet in me. Maybe I just enjoy playing w/the sounds. Maybe I just enjoy typing and seeing what resembles a meaningful pattern emerge on the page. Maybe there's something I can't express in and about my writing. Maybe I enjoy being purposefully ambiguous? Many writers have been. I'll never tell. Whatever it is, I've been curious about, and interested in writing all my life.

A corollary I find necessary to writing, I love deep wonder and imagination. Flights of fancy capture me like nothing else. Give me fantasy, give me what if's, give me possibilities and I'll ponder them all day. Many will inspire and result in stories or articles. Give me anything of interest to chew on and I will turn it over until something spills out of either my mouth or my pen.

Which leads me to conversation. The Russians claim that it's not what one eats at the table, but the company with which one shares it which makes a good meal. I couldn't agree more. That's why I love long road trips, eating out, and generally conversing with articulate people. After a long day, come relax with me in a dimly lit room, drink a bit of wine to clear out the cob webs, start with something innocent for discussion, then let our minds sound and explore the depths of whatever flows from that subconscious stream. Then weave oral poetry with me until one of us falls asleep.

To me, that's a good time, and these are my primary interests. 

Until next time,

Contemplate the mysteries, and remember to breathe.