Second Thoughts ~ The Tension in Writing

Greetings Dear Reader,

Too often I want to stay up writing but time and weariness constrain me.  I do not often write about writing but I need to do so as it is a challenging path.  I love the time in front of the blank page even when it is a virtual one.  Stories and thoughts clamor to get out of my head but my failing fingers are too slow and error-prone.

I can often dictate what is there but I feel I miss the internal editing that happens whilst forming sentences.  Later editing loses the flashes of insight and thought that characters and situations whisper to me in the moment.  I am learning just how vital being in the moment is for my writing as well as life.   

This is a part of my journey that I have sought to enhance for some time.  Only recently, however, have I seen how vital it is to my faith, following, and storytelling.  I have to be in the moment with my characters to keep them real and fluid.  I must listen to their views on things and love them unconditionally even if they are vile and reprehensible.  Then again, if they get too cheeky, I can kill them off as well. 😊

The exercise in writing characters that are bad helps me to love people that are bad.  It teaches me to see them as a whole and not just the dimension that my protagonist encounters.  The story revolves around people who have real facets and some of those facets are flawed but not all of them.  Like life, no one is all bad but that does not mean that the badness does not dominate.

Still, if I am to produce a tenable villain, he or she must have something to interest you, Dear Reader.  I do not want you to hate him or her.  I wish for you to see his wretchedness and desire his reclamation.  I want you to catch a glimpse of how the Father feels when we cling to our own wretchedness when he pours love and life into us. 

A couple of friends regularly chide me because I write fiction in the present tense.  This is the core reason: we are required by the Father to live in the moment.  As our story unfolds, we are in the moment as it occurs.  I wish for you to also see others this way.  Enjoy the view if you can.  Enjoy the ride at any cost.  Learning to love in the moment will make the journey better.  Remember that we are all part of a greater story and I am just trying to help you see it.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn

Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a homeowner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

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Second Thoughts – A Future and Once Captain

Greetings Dear Reader,

Sometimes I will end the day with thoughts that are important to get out.  Usually I just write them and put them in my journal folder.  I have chosen that on occasion I will share them with you Dear Reader.

So many years ago I found the father I was missing.  He was still absent but for good reason.  He reminded me in so many ways of the persona that was my actual father but with more integrity and a better profession. 

I am speaking of Captain James T. Kirk.   Today is (will be) his birthday.  When I was boy his adventures on the small screen taught me some things I sorely needed.  I learned that everyone mattered.  I learned about friends and loyalty.  I learned that you follow the rules until following the rules becomes wrong.

Please understand how precious this has been in my life Dear Reader.  I do not think I would have survived the end of my first decade without Star Trek.  It gave me hope when hope was thin.  I still watch those old shows and remember good things.  I also remember the times I have spent with friends, students, and family reliving those adventures.

The debt I owe to Gene Roddenberry cannot be repaid.  The deeper debt is to others for the benefit of knowing his work.  I raise a glass tonight to William Shatner and James T. Kirk.  They have all helped me to boldly go where I might not have gone.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn

Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

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Loving What We Will Become ~ Opening Thoughts

Greetings Dear Reader,

One of the things we master as a species is recognizing the flaws in each other.   It is so easy to point out what is wrong.  It is no small thing to only see what is wrong but that is not the common.  The common is to be sure to mitigate the good with the flaws we see.

In our congress between each other as we grow familiar we also see more clearly the flaws in each other.  We forget the good and noble traits that draw us together and instead we see only the darkness.  We do this with so many things as they age.  We see the cracks and worn spots but not the character.  We forget the things that are good and enamor us of each other.

I want to always see what people can become.  I want to view my fellow travelers as being in process.  If I see what they can become if loved and treated with respect then perhaps I can mitigate some pain in the world.  This line of thought is triggered by a line from a show that has little respect for man.  A woman is dying and in a rare moment of nobility one of the protagonist is told that as the disease progresses the woman will not be who she was.  Without hesitation the man says, “Then I will love what she becomes.” 

Perhaps the vital truth that I must explore, understand, and embrace is to see people as they will be.  I must find ways to look past the cracks and flaws to the richness of the journeying soul.  I hope you have time to chat about it with me as we journey together Dear Reader.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn

Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

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Second Thoughts – Memories Unwanted Unleashed

Greetings Dear Reader,

Sometimes I will end the day with thoughts that are important to get out.  Usually I just write them and put them in my journal folder.  I have chosen that on occasion I will share them with you Dear Reader.

I saw the movie A Dog’s Purpose this weekend.  There will be no spoilers here.  I found the movie to be well made if a bit predictable.  I think, however, that they wished the predictability to prepare the viewer for the emotional impact. 

I was not prepared at all.  The movie brought tears to my eyes as soon as the central story began.  It struck a deep well of long capped over memories.  They erupted in a geyser of tears and pain that still echoes this evening. 

Her name was Shabel’s Shady Lady.  She was a champion Rough Collie.  She was a gift from a family friend who became my constant companion.  We hiked the woods and trails around our suburban home for hours and days.  She was gentle, obedient, and very well behaved.

We took her everywhere.  She slept in my room and would nuzzle me awake every morning before school.  When I returned in the afternoons she was always waiting at the door for our pre-homework jaunt.

I will not chronicle the details of her loss.  It is enough to say that others conspired to take her from me.  The loss was sudden, tragic, and met with no compassion from my parents.  I have not owned a dog since.  I will not until it is completely on my terms.

I cannot believe how raw and sharp the memories of that time are.  I thought that I had abandoned them.  Instead they lay in wait for me in some frozen buried part of my heart and mind.  Yesterday they assaulted me with cruel determination to undo me. 

It was necessary to visit the memories and forgive those who harmed so deeply with intent.  I had to remember the treachery and forgive as I know that I never did.  The pain is fresh and raw.  I don’t even have pictures; just memories to hold.

Walk on the Ocean – Toad the Wet Sprocket

We spotted the ocean at the head of the trail

Where are we going, so far away?

And somebody told me that this is the place

Where everything's better and everything's safe

Walk on the ocean

Step on the stones

Flesh becomes water

Wood becomes bone

And half an hour later we packed up our things

We said we'd send letters and all those little things

And they knew we were lying but they smiled just the same

It seemed they'd already forgotten we'd came

Walk on the ocean

Step on the stones

Flesh becomes water

Wood becomes bone

Walk on the ocean

Step on the stones

Flesh becomes water

Wood becomes bone

Now we're back at the homestead

Where the air makes you choke

And people don't know you

And trust is a joke

We don't even have pictures

Just memories to hold

That grow sweeter each season

As we slowly grow old

Walk on the ocean

Step on the stones

Flesh becomes water

Wood becomes bone

Walk on the ocean

Step on the stones

Flesh becomes water

Wood becomes bone

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn

Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

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Second Thoughts – Surprised by Pain

Greetings Dear Reader,

Sometimes I will end the day with thoughts that are important to get out.  Usually I just write them and put them in my journal folder.  I have chosen that on occasion I will share them with you Dear Reader.

The weather is such that there is a damp chill in the air.  I pulled out a very old sweater to keep from getting chilled whilst I prepared dinner and watched Jeopardy.  The day has been fairly easy and I am coasting into the evening. 

It is likely that I have not worn this sweater in twelve years.  It is one of my old teaching sweaters that I used to ward off the damp winter days in Georgia; days much like today.  The temperature is above freezing but the rain is gelatinous.  I would walk from my office to chapel in sweaters like this one as a coat was too heavy.

After moving to the northern Midwest this garment was too light for winters and too heavy for autumn or spring.   Instead I reserved it for gaming in the basement with friends I dearly love and often miss.  It is a classic cardigan with too large lower front pockets.  As I am want to do I slipped my hands into the pockets whilst waiting for my dinner to cook.

In the right pocket was a carefully folded piece of blue-grey paper.  In faded black ink on it was a short note from Avalon.  For those who do not know Avalon was my spouse and some years ago, chose other things over our marriage.  I do not say that in a condemning or mean way.  It is, however, true. 

The note was sweet, kind, and filled with loving promise.  It spoke of potential and passion.  It used code that was part of our secret language that made communication easy and fun when we wished it to be thus.  I can still feel the moments when these notes would appear and the promise they shored and sustained. 

So I am sitting here, my meal gone cold.  I am longing for something that I will never have again.  I am remembering things that are beautiful and good.  I am wondering why I have no fellow traveler when I feel the need for one so very deeply.  And in all of that, as the tears refuse to remain in the deep well of my romantic’s soul, I read the note again.  I remember that once in a while; for a brief time I am worth a little romance and the promise of adventure. 

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn

Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

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Second Thoughts – Leonard Cohen

Greetings Dear Reader,

Sometimes I will end the day with thoughts that are important to get out.  Usually I just write them and put them in my journal folder.  I have chosen that on occasion I will share them with you Dear Reader.

In the vainest part of my being I wish to be thought of as a Renaissance Man.  Then I encounter souls like Leonard Cohen and realize that I am light years from someone so talented and versatile.   The man embraced the arts in so many forms and excelled at all of them.

When I learned of his passing last week it took me a couple of days to absorb the loss.   His music alone spanned fifty years and grew steadily more excellent.   That is what I supposed I loved the most about this man was what seemed a constant pursuit of excellence.  

I fear that he like many great artists was not often understood.   As an example is the popularity of his song Hallelujah.  It has been covered by everyone and their cousin.   Almost all of them sing the version popularized by Rufus Wainwright in Shrek.   I take nothing away from this cover.  It is haunting and beautiful and fits the movie well.  It also leaves out the heart of the song.

Leonard Cohen did not shy away from the hard questions of faith.   His original version of the song expresses the same struggle with life but does so in faith.  He added many verses over the years.  There are, I think, eighty in all. 

I will miss this man and his music.   The world is better for his presence in it and poorer for his departure.   I am sure, however, that the Lord of Song is pleased to hear his hallelujahs. 

Hallelujah – Leonard Cohen – Original version from the album Various Positions

Now I’ve heard there was a secret chord

that David played, and it pleased the Lord,

but you don’t really care for music, do you?

It goes like this: the fourth, the fifth

the minor fall, the major lift;

the baffled king composing Hallelujah!

Hallelujah Hallelujah

Hallelujah Hallelujah

Your faith was strong but you needed proof.

You saw her bathing on the roof;

her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you.

She tied you to a kitchen chair

she broke your throne, and she cut your hair,

and from your lips she drew the Hallelujah!

Hallelujah Hallelujah

Hallelujah Hallelujah

You say I took the Name in vain;

I don’t even know the name.

But if I did, well, really, what’s it to you?

There’s a blaze of light in every word;

it doesn’t matter which you heard,

the holy, or the broken Hallelujah!

Hallelujah Hallelujah

Hallelujah Hallelujah

I did my best; it wasn’t much.

I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch.

I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you.

And even though it all went wrong,

I’ll stand before the Lord of Song

with nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah!

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn

Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

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Second Thoughts – On Burning Flags - Freedom Never Cries

Greetings Dear Reader,

Sometimes I will end the day with thoughts that are important to get out.  Usually I just write them and put them in my journal folder.  I have chosen that on occasion I will share them with you Dear Reader.

I get that there are people unhappy with the election results from Tuesday.  I understand that we have waned in our capacity as a society to be “good losers”.  I even understand that on both sides of the political spectrum there are extremes.  I am, however, ashamed of the behavior of some of those “protesting” the outcome of the election.

I did not want this man to be president.  I cannot support his views on some things.  That, however, is not a good reason to be violent, harsh, or even a poor loser.  I realize there is fear over what may happen.  I also realize that acting out of fear is rarely wise.  It broke my heart to hear my friend Penny lament what she was seeing.   It gave me tears to think of the veterans who have lost so much to protect what the United States stands for at its foundation.

The Washing Post reported that students at American University burned the American Flag in protest of the result of our democratic process.   Is there anyone out there who sees how useless and dishonorable this is.  That flag covers so many things.  It is the sacred symbol of honor draped over the casket of every solider that dies protecting your freedom to burn it.  It is the symbol of a land that does stand for freedom and liberty. 

We may have issues.  We do have things to fix.   Hatred and anger on either side will not heal anything.  We could band together and demand that all the problems in the bureaucracy of government be solved.   We could decide to be good to each other no matter what our politics or social views. 

Pulling a man out of his car and beating him because he voted for someone dishonors everything we believe about freedom.  Disrespecting anyone for politics is foolishness.  We could spend our energy working for the needs of those around us.  We could fight the fear and potential danger by remembering that the Government serves us and hold it accountable to do so. 

Instead I see people acting as if they are entitled to bad behavior because they are afraid or angry.  If we are to rise above this turmoil, we need to be good to each other.  Tolerance needs to be an action of grace and kindness and not a political viewpoint.  Our president, no matter who he is, would have to listen to the people were they to unite and fight for the things with matter instead of fighting each other. 

When we burn our own flag we harm our society.  We insult the men and women who give their lives to defend it.  It is legal because we have laws that allow real freedom.  We can protest and even act like petulant children because we are a free society.  Imagine in a true fascist state the consequences of protesting an election.  All things are lawful but all things are not expedient.  

Freedom Never Cries – Five for Fighting

I took a flag to a pawn shop

For a broken guitar

I took a flag to a pawn shop

How much is that guitar

I took a flag to a pawn shop

I got me that guitar

What's a flag in a pawn shop to me?

I saw a man on the TV

In a mask with a gun

A man on the TV

He had a ten year old son

I saw a man on the TV

His son had a gun

And he says that he's coming for me

I never loved the soldier until there was a war

Or thought about tomorrow

Until my baby hit the floor

I only talk to God when somebody's about to die

I never cherished freedom

Freedom never cries

I wrote a song for a dead man

To settle my soul

A song for a dead man

And now I'll never grow old

I wrote a song for a dead man

Now I'm out in the cold

What's a song to a dead man to me?

I never loved the soldier until there was a war

Or thought about tomorrow

Until my baby hit the floor

I only talk to God when somebody's about to die

I never cherished freedom

Freedom never cries

You can cry for her

Die for her

Lay down your life for her

Kiss and wave goodbye to her

Anything at all

You can cry for her

Die for her

Make up your mind to her

Anything at all, oh

There's a baby on the doorstep

Wailing away

There's a baby on the doorstep

Longing for the day

There's a baby on the doorstep

Who'd give his life to take

A flag to a pawn shop

A flag to a pawn shop

May he forget why he is crying some day

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn

Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

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Second Thoughts – The Cubs

Greetings Dear Reader,

Sometimes I will end the day with thoughts that are important to get out.  Usually I just write them and put them in my journal folder.  I have chosen that on occasion I will share them with you Dear Reader.

Those who know understand that I love baseball for many reasons.   Tonight, I want to celebrate the Cub’s victory in this year’s world series.  The long drought for so many Cub’s fans is over.  It took 108 years to regain the crown but for all my friends who are Cub’s fans, I cheer for you.

This celebration for me springs out of my love for baseball.   This victory ties directly to the eternal hope and renewal that is baseball.  The fact that the entire season turns on the cogs of countless choices.

It may be a stolen base in game three that sets the path.  It could be an early pitching change on opening day.  Baseball is such a stark reflection of the truth that there is always hope.  With Christ, there is always hope.  Cubs’ fans hoped for over a century and they had to hope through seven games, a lost lead, a rain delay, and extra innings. 

That is the nature of hope.  It renews.  It lives.  It sustains.  I am happy for the Cubs and their many fans.  I am more thrilled that they have served as an example of eternal hope.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn

Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

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A Season of Gratitude – Opening Thoughts

Greetings Dear Reader,

As I transition into my favorite time of the year I am determined to count my blessings.  I am also determined to be specific and clear about things for which I am grateful.  My hope is to journey through the month to the Advent season with a heart full of understanding.   I want to be sure that I understand the full gamut of all that I have in my life.

In general, I feel that much of the unhappiness in the world is a result of not being truly thankful.  We fail to see all that is good in our lives and so we want more things, money, and attention.  We try to control things so that we have what we want.   Our fear of not having and our greed drive us to forget just how deep the provision is in our lives.

This year I want to celebrate Thanksgiving by being thankful every day.  I will discuss things for which I am truly grateful.   My hope is that my gratitude and appreciation deepen.  I challenge you too Dear Reader.   Walk with me toward the season of giving by acknowledging what we already have.   As always I value your company and thoughts.  As always, I am thankful for you every day.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn

Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

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