Sponge
Another fabulous trip, another head buzzing with
new experiences. That's why "The Daily Strick"
hasn't been a daily for several days.
Sometimes—as often as possible,
actually—a writer has to get out and dive
head-first into life instead of just observing and
documenting. This weekend, I did just that, both
literally and figuratively. And I don't feel the
slightest bit of guilt for not writing a single
word.
I have sometimes looked back on my professional
life with an occasional regret. In hindsight, I see
a patchwork quilt of jobs and careers: radar
navigation, desktop publishing, sailboat repair,
filmmaking, customer service, Web design, diving.
Such diversity, while interesting, is not conducive
to becoming "upwardly mobile." Thank God I have no
ambition to define myself with such a term. I've
done my share of time in cubicle dungeons in order
to pay the bills, as I'm sure I probably will
again, but I wilt under the monochromatic weight of
fluorescent lighting.
The events of this past year, and this daily
"exercise" in particular, have helped me focus on
what I really want out of life, and what path I
truly desire to follow. And with such clarity, I've
reminded myself of something I've known all along:
that one cannot be a writer without experiencing as
much as possible, without fully immersing oneself
in the eddies and whorls of life. Sure, my career
path has zigzagged in all directions instead of
following an upward, linear direction. But each zig
and each zag has added layers of experience
that—to me, anyway—have far more value
than any promotion from assistant to coordinator to
manager to director. As I grow older and write
more, these layers give my writing more and more
depth.
Perhaps it's most simply summed up with the term
I used to describe myself to a friend yesterday:
sponge. Nothing turns me on more than
learning and experiencing new things. Throw me into
a new environment, and I soak up everything around
me. Eventually, however, I can't absorb any more,
and I'll sit stewing, waterlogged, until I'm wrung
out. And that's why my writing has always been
there, no matter what else I've ever done in life.
It's my way of wringing myself out.
I took on a lot of water this past weekend.
Check back soon as I squeeze out some of the excess
and fill in the gaps of this daily column with a
report on the weekend's activities.
©2003 Michael
Strickland ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED
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What is "The Daily Strick"?
I have long called
myself a writer, but too often I don't do
what a writer must do daily: write. So
you, dear reader, are the beneficiary of
my resolution to make a positive change in
at least one area of my life. Every single
day of this new year, I will write
something, anything, and post it here. It
is my intention to use this daily exercise
to jump-start my too-long-dormant creative
energies, and perhaps generate some
worthwhile material this year. Hopefully
you will find at least an occasional
amusement or insight in my daily
musings.
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Previously...
5/4:
MacGyver
5/3:
Mike's
Sky Ranch
5/2:
Baja
Bound
5/1:
Ice
Moon
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