FLASH…here’s the latest gossip from the frigid forests of Minnesota: all the socialites have left town, leaving the loners in charge. Srsly. Nary a herd, flock, swarm or gaggle in sight. Winter ain’t for sissies. Or, if you like, temperate climes are for the prudent. Feathers have flown, fur has burrowed or migrated, the creature comfort crowd has caught the last train out of Dodge.
And there’s the lone
eagle arcing slowly above the frost-braised reed bed in search of the lone
mouse making a panic run to see if the wind has brought down anything edible.
I’m struck by that
this year for some reason. The gregarious, the social – the crowds – quite
naturally go with the flow, a kind of conformity that is less evident here in
Minne-snowta where Snow Queens and Paul Bunyans abound. Is that why I moved
here – to find more moments of pristine peace?
In any case, I want
you to know that I appreciate NORMAL people too – people who see no point in
testing the limits or have nothing to prove. Most of you no doubt are satisfied
with your lives, but I get quite a bit of email from readers who are tormented
by things they feel they’re giving up on, and my mantra celebrating freedom and
never abandoning dreams just makes it worse for them. To them I want to say
that my lotus-eating romantic idealism isn’t for everyone. I know that. And
while I applaud and greatly respect those who never compromise the urgent
dreams of their core identity, life waits for no one. If chasing magic isn’t
its own reward and a viable part of all your moments in some way, waiting for
it to find you is a waste of time. Anyway, whether you are a staunch
individualist or just someone who wants to fit in, betraying who you are is a
sure way to end up hating yourself.
Ergo, keep faith with
what you’ve built your life on. Do not try to be true to dated dreams. If
you’ve already replaced them, the time for risk is past; the time for
acceptance of who you chose to be has arrived. It is what you know – what
you’ve become – and there’s no lack of courage in it. Doesn’t matter if it’s not
everything you wanted it to be or even if it’s just an appearance that you’ve
grown used to. It isn’t living an illusion if you are aware of it. In a way,
it’s a life of service outside yourself, maybe even the bravest thing you’ve
done.
There, see? I’m not a
one-size-fits-all advocate. My personal Rx is to court magic forever, grow
always, and love once. That’s my DNA. Standard Peter Pan issue; growing old not
so much. Wanna see the two Valentines I’m sending out? Aww-w, don’t reach for
the delete key, don’t do that…I’m a nice guy, really. Anyway, one of them might
be to you wherever you are…and WHOEVER you are.
You are the unique ones of the world, the loners, the misfits, the mavericks. You create things, start new trends, question and overturn the status quo for better or for worse. Ultimate truths are unknowable without your courage. Were it not for you, sameness would rule and we would all be vulnerable to any change outside ourselves (…so sayeth natural selection, survival of the species and all that science-y stuff). Thank you.
Dear Valentine #2 –
You are the majority,
the normal ones. You are also the rocks, the anchors whose values will rule for
a generation or an age. You define the morals and the mores of society and sanction
them through the sheer force of what you accept or reject. The ever-evolving
particulars don’t matter but the effects do – safety, security, stability. Thanks
for following the blueprints, the maps and the protocols.
My
monthly column at StorytellersUnplugged is rolling again, and here's
the link to the last archived one, a Q&A of daunting questions that
range from writing to relationships, titled CHOKING ON CHICKEN BONES: http://www.storytellersunplugged.com/2015/01/15/thomas-sullivan-choking-on-chicken-bones/#respond .
Photos below are as follows: #1-3 a night ski on the way to meet the full moon on the unlit trails (those tiny bright spots in the lower half of #3 are a diamond dust snow coming down); #4 Sully and friend; #5-7 hiking shots; #8-11 snow picnic; #12 skiing around 3 a.m. in face-mask weather.
Kind friends invited me to share their Cayman Island condo two weeks ago, and even though I had to pass, the mere fact of the opportunity turned my imagination loose as I skate-skied the usual winter haunts. White snow lanes became white sand beaches, and my red Cheetah skis kicked up glitter and sequins off crested dunes as if it was sun-spangled spray off cresting waves. But the elements are interchangeable in more ways than just visual: there is the fire within, the riding of the wind, and the feather softness as you carve a path in a yielding environment be it water, sand or snow… I wish you fire within and the freedom of the wind and white feather landings until we meet again.
Thomas "Sully" Sullivan
You can see all my books in any format here on my webpage or follow me on Facebook:
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