On Being and God's Gardners

Can't wait to read Margaret Atwood's newest novel, THE YEAR OF THE FLOOD-- what she calls "speculative fiction," aka literary science fiction. The story includes God's Gardeners "a religion devoted to the melding of science, religion, and nature, which has long predicted a disaster. " Atwood has always been smart about the promotional aspects of novel writing as well. [I hear she invented a kind of pen that allows authors to virtually autograph books.I kid you not.] She is on Twitter and has a stunning website for THE YEAR OF THE FLOOD.
There, you can nominate a "flood saint."

And now on to "Being" in the moment.For those of us who find writing a spiritual practice:

I love this quote from Virginia Woolf [thanks to Dani Shapiro's terrific blog about writing, which features this quote]:

Every day includes much more non-being than being. This is always so. One walks, eats, sees things, deals with what has to be done; the broken vacuum cleaner; ordering dinner; washing; cooking dinner. When it is a bad day the proportion of non-being is much larger.-- Virginia Woolf

Stop & Smell the Buddleia

Butterflies, after they pupate, only live for about 24 hours. They flutter around in stunning beauty for a day, sucking up nectar.

The tiger swallowtail that posed for me in my front yard on the buddleia here reminds me how important it is to bring myself back into the present moment-- away from the noise and worries of the future, and the weight of the past. That kind of focus and flow happens on good writing days, when I lose all sense of time--clock time.

Sage advice from two blogs today, too good not to share:

From fellow writer Dani Shapiro, who blogs today on entering the internal world of writing: on good writing habits that foster creativity-- and avoiding the bad habits [like the maddening mind chatter from self-Googling.]

I loved Dani's novel Family History by the way...and I'm happy I stumbled upon her blog, and her quote from Virginia Woolf:

"Every day includes much more non-being than being. This is always so. One walks, eats, sees things, deals with what has to be done; the broken vacuum cleaner; ordering dinner; washing; cooking dinner. When it is a bad day the proportion of non-being is much larger."
-- Virginia Woolf

And from Zen Thoughts, some concrete suggestions on how to live without "clock time," and with a quote I loved...this one from Faulkner:

“Clocks slay time… time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life.” - William Faulkner

A room with no view, please

Writers complain a lot about distraction and procrastination. It's not just email, Twitter, Facebook, blogging-- it's the window. Yep, the room with a view. Especially in the spring, with birds nesting and flowers blooming. A room of one's own, as Virginia Woolf said, is necessary. But maybe not one with a window. I think it was Annie Dillard who advised to position your desk so you're facing a blank wall.

And so I'm trying not to look up from my laptop and watch the birds. I have a tendency to micro-manage the bird feeder. The bluebirds are nesting, and I feel privileged to have them as guests. I feed them meal worms. I have the live kind you buy from bait shops or pet stores. They come in containers with little holes at the top that say MEAL WORMS, and you keep them in the fridge. [Ever seen the look of a guest after he opens the fridge and sees MEAL WORMS beside his Santa Margherita Pinot Grigio? Try it sometime. It's fun.]

They are sluggish little worms because they're, you know, cold, and if worms had teeth they'd be chattering. Once you take them out of the fridge, and select a doomed few for the birds, you're supposed to keep out the rest for a hours and feed them pieces of apple to keep them alive. Then you put them back in the Tower of London fridge to chill out. With all that feeding and attention, you may end up thinking those invertebrates are pets, too, after a while. They do have their charm, the way they squirm and thrash-- not going gently into that good night, as Dylan Thomas said.

And so I have turned to the dried, crunchy [dead] kind of meal worms that smell like corn chips and dirty feet. You have to soak those in warm water about 15 minutes before your put them out for the bluebirds. The grackles like worms, too. They're aggressive and greedy-- the Wall Street birds. They still have to feed their young'uns, too, so I let them take a few gulps then I shoo them away so the bluebirds can come in and have their fill. We sort of have a routine now: the bluebirds know I bring out the meal worms about ten in the morning. The grackles swoop in, gulp, and I shoo them away, and that's the bluebirds' cue that brunch is served. But I think they might like tea and dinner, too. Need more worms!

Some good news:
The shaggy dog story--see previous post-- has a heart-warming ending. "Wallace" the cute mutt who showed up, homeless but gregarious, in our neighborhood has found a home. After we fed him and fell in love with him, he went missing a few days. After several of us plastered posters everywhere [and found out his previous owner had moved and left Wallace no forwarding address], I got a call from a friendly dog-loving bartender who found Wallace hanging out and flirting with folks in line for a show and took him home. Wallace, who has extremely good dog manners, fell right into the two-dog family and is bathed, and heading to the vet for shots and neutering. There are a lot of dog-loving, kind people out there. Really.