Bookends of the Day

God as a living author, whose span of activity extends infinitely beyond our racial memory in both directions. We never see His great work finished. Here and there we seem to recognize something which looks like the end of a chapter or the last page of a volume; or an episode presents itself to us as having a kind of completeness and unity in itself.

- Dorothy L. Sayers

The light is fading more quickly these days. I sit now at my little cafe table by my big windows, and just a few minutes ago, the room was ablaze with light. Now it has become a muted, softer glow. A cup of tea was just added to the table, after steeping in the kitchen, along with the book The Mind of the Maker by Dorothy L. Sayers, which I am slowly and intricately grasping in great delight. Oh, this book is a treasure of notes to the writer, or any creative person. She reminds me that to be the closest to God's image, we are to create. Simple and pithy. That is D.L.S. I have been reading more and more of her books lately, and everything I read is absolutely wonderful. I am dancing in her insights and stories. 

In this book, I nod in agreement with her as she describes the created characters in a story, and how they have their own independent will, just as we do, and we were created by God. Authors do not seek to possess the characters and have them do whatever the author fancies. It is hard to explain this sometimes, but D.L.S. does it for me:

...he never desires to subdue his work to himself but always to subdue himself to his work. The more genuinely creative he is, the more he will want his work to develop in accordance with its own nature, and to stand independent of himself. Well-meaning readers who try to identify the writer with his characters or to excavate the author's personality and opinions from his books are frequently astonished by the ferocious rudeness with which the author himself salutes these efforts at reabsorbing his work into himself. They are an assault upon the independence of his creatures, which he very properly resents.

I love her notions that an author stands independent from the characters, rather than being absorbed in their own work. Reading this was such a comfort to me, that I am not the only one who writes like this, and wants my stories to be separate from me, where the characters of my create story will follow their nature, not mine. I am not writing autobiography, but a creative imaginative story to take us into another place and experience. 

This is what I am contemplating as I sip my mint tea. D.L.S. has given me so much to contemplate in this book, and I eagerly absorb it all like a dry sponge. I am so thankful to sit here now, as mundane and slow as it is. By my window, the sun sinks lower and lower, the trees dance in an evening swirl, and the sky is scrubbed clean. These are the kinds of evenings I love as a season begins a transition. A beauty emerges in the rays of light. I delight in the fading light, as I do in the morning, growing light. Something about the bookends of the day offers the most thought-provoking scenes of colour and natural beauty. I sit here in wonder. It is nice to do that sometimes. Just enjoy the moment in thought. 

10 Years

Dad at Yosemite (10 years, 2 months ago)

This was a bright July day at Yosemite. We drove up to the highest peak for the spectacular views. It was truly jaw-dropping. Half Dome dominates the scene, a marvel on its own, but then you have a painting of waterfalls, cliffs, snow capped mountain peaks, and miles of pure natural beauty. And it's all so tiny, you feel like you could reach out and touch that waterfall over Dad's shoulder. My deep love of nature and appreciation of the trees, woods, waterfalls, and streams comes from Dad. His was a life-long love of the outdoors, hiking, and camping. I will never be rough and tough as he was, but that love of the natural world is a true kindling in me for words, poetry, and stories.

Always donning his BMW gear, Dad is wearing a BMW hat, BMW M-Power jacket, and BMW waffle knit shirt. It could seem like a juxtaposition to say that he was passionate about BMW and nature, but there you have it. He loved to drive his BMW 635 csi out into nature (along the curving roads) and then get out to experience nature. It was a perfect fit for him, actually.

This is a loss that does not diminish, but life does move forward as it has to. Living in the past can be dangerous, for we miss out on the present and the coming good. Our loved ones who have gone before us would not wish any one of us to dwell in a past sadness, but to look upon it with a smile. And I smile at this trip. 

I feel endlessly privileged that I grew up with such a Dad, who lived by example, lived to love, and lived to give. My heart and soul is shaped by that, even more than I ever realized 10+ years ago. I am still being shaped by that, and still learning what it means. I strive to live up to his good ways.

I feel badly for those people who did not know my Dad. If you never met him, that is a loss, indeed. Those who didn't know him have a loss they do not even recognize. Their lives are missing something special. That is why, if I can emulate a part of the good ways in which Dad lived, I can allow his life to be known somehow in the here and now. His goodness lives on, 10 years and beyond, through all of us who knew him well.

Air of Delight

Air of Delight

A treat is in the air
A breeze befuddles the trees
and turns the day inside out - 
Our brains feel confused,
so accustomed to the heat - 
What is this air of delight?
Signify something, we pray,
something of a change - 
The swift-seated season
transitions into a ripeness,
an openness like a bloom,
ready to receive.
Don't take a step back,
translate instead the newness
of the breeze we have met in acquaintance.
May the season and our expectations rise
and meet in the heavenly place
of mutual delight.

Creative Work

Man's creative work is the fulfilment of the Creator's secret will.
- Berdyaev

There are secrets and mysteries we cannot discover the answers to. There always will be. It is interesting to muse upon this idea. But that does not mean we cannot capture those momentary glimpses of something beyond our own knowledge in the act of creating.

Could our creative work reveal (lift the veil) just a tiny bit to see a glimmer of some of that secret? Do we possibly stand on the edge of something so mysterious, and by our work we get a glimpse over into the other realm, not too much, but just enough to fill us with deeper wonder?

I think this is what imaginative stories do for us, and we can do as creators of such stories. Whether we are published writers who fill pages of books, or we are parents/teachers/aunts/uncles of young eager learners who make up creative tales that go beyond the edges of the known maps, we are opening up to another world when we relinquish the hold we have on this world so seriously.

Sometimes that means we may need to laugh more. Or take the time to indulge in creating a magical story with a young child. Or listen to a story being told.

I feel like I am sometimes on the brink of something mysterious and wonderful, not quite understood, but fully immersed in. The details come streaming in, and they walk around in my thoughts for a long while, formulating and musing along the way. But only when they emerge to the page do they have some more purpose.

Don't let these stories fade. Smile at their presence, and get to work. Getting them scribbled on the page makes them one step closer to bearing the availability to share with others.

Shadows

Shadows

A wispy vision arises in the mind,
caressing the landscape, yet covering beauty,
and there it grows, like a shadow.
As the sun sinks swiftly, into land slipping
beneath the earth where shadows
go to dwell passing time in evening - 
twilight, darkness, deep-domed things -
Awake! Let the light shine on shadows
of the deep -
Things that grew, but only
in the mind. 
Things that consume, but only
if you allow them. 
Hold it out in your outstretched hand,
and inspect how translucent it is,
then crush it with your fingertips,
letting specks of dust fall with your breath - 
it is a shadow of the mind, a wisp not visible.
Let the light shine on shadows.

Magic Pages

Magic Pages

They might seem blank now
Papery and thin, a whisper
of what is to soon be revealed -
On these pages somehow
with printed lines or not -
We venture into the realms of imagining.
Whether life blood or mind matter
Words inky and scribbled,
sometimes hesitantly, otherwise at mind-speed.
These are the pages that rise and scatter,
not sitting still in their bound book.
The words do their best work when released.
These are magic pages.

The Romance of Mystery

The whole secret of mysticism is this: that man can understand everything by the help of what he does not understand.

- G.K. Chesterton

I do love a good mystery. There is always something to think about when all is not known. I will admit, though, I have trouble in life sometimes when mysteries present themselves, such as when a big change comes suddenly that I was not expecting or when one of the most powerful hurricanes is heading straight for my area and the path is not completely clear. These daily life mysteries leave me tense and uncertain. I like clarity and appreciate information.

But good stories help remind me to embrace the mystery and to live in that mystery. If we are intentional, we might be able to gradually live into the answers. I have learned that oftentimes in the mystery we can catch glimpses of God's space, and use our senses and feelings to shape and build what we cannot see yet.

I have always enjoyed a mystery story every now and then, starting with Nancy Drew books when I was a teenager. There was always a sense of wonder in me, as I would read about Nancy daringly walking into a dangerous situation to find clues and information about something she tried to solve. Her penchant for knowing more and gathering more clues was keenly felt within myself.

Lately, I have discovered Dorothy L. Sayers and her mystery stories, particularly Gaudy Night, which is set in Oxford in the 1930's. The book is a mixture of some of my favourite components: a love letter to Oxford, a mystery set within a college of which Harriet is a senior member, and the mysterious friendship/relationship between Harriet and Lord Peter. The book is brimming with intelligence and wit, alongside clues and mishaps. 

I love that Sayers writes not only about the mystery. The mystery seems to be a side note sometimes, but the relationships are a key focus. Even when the mystery is capturing the scene, it always seems to be in the background, in the mind of Harriet or Lord Peter. Harriet has to grapple with issues deep within herself, and her past, in order to see clearly how she truly feels about Peter. And that will change everything. Peter has to dwell in patience, and he holds fast to the notion that he knows he cannot change Harriet's heart. He cannot make decisions for her, and he has to embrace her independent and intelligent spirit, which he does. It is so beautiful to see all of that develop through the book. There are plenty of charming passages, with all the British humour and wit. I delight in the whole of it, and I find myself captured by the mystery of it all.

If we can learn to appreciate the mystery, and wrap ourselves into it, we may see more than we can even hope for, sometimes that which is revealed to us in mystery opens up the truth of what we long for, allowing us to know ourselves more deeply, and thereby knowing who we are in God.

#ReadingSelador

The more Nella thought, the deeper into the questions she found herself. But she knew deep down somewhere that her imagination had saved her from being consumed by forced teaching of lies and falsehood. She never let that sink in, and perhaps she taught herself to forget those things while focusing on the imaginings on her mind. Some deeper truth steeped into her very being, casting out lies that challenged it.

- Selador: The Book of Time

I asked you all to show how you are reading Selador, and I have loved receiving texts and posts that show me where and how my book has gone. It's such a delight to reach you out there, far away, or maybe even close by. I thought I would pick a few favourites to post here.

I am so dearly thankful for each and every one of you who bought my book, read it, and have shared your thoughts with me on it. What you liked, what stuck out to you, how you were surprised, or what you thought about a situation. I love hearing all the different perspectives, especially listening to you tell me what is going on in your imaginations!

So, please do share with me you photos, thoughts, and reactions. As a writer and creator of this story, I value all of that so much. 

If you post anything on Instagram (it would be so fun if you did), use hashtag #readingselador so I can find it!

If you would like to, please check out Selador: The Book of Time if you haven't already.
Also, if you feel inclined to write a review on Amazon, I would appreciate it!