The Nurture of Writing and Nature

Perhaps one has to be very old before one learns to be amused rather than shocked. 

- Pearl S. Buck

Daily, I search for life's possibilities and what generates amusement and positivity. The absurdities of some individuals make it difficult. I yearn to feel amused when shock sets in. Where's my funny bone when needed?

During my morning run, I notice a man scaling sides of a sea cliff. He eventually tumbled into the water. I ask his observers what is going on with the dangerous venture?

"He's getting ready for a proposal."

Of what I wonder? They don't elaborate. He's a bounce short of quadriplegia.

Another fellow throws rocks at pelicans and cormorants. My vocabulary colors his day.

Do I need to become a porcupine when passing oncoming walkers who don't share the road? Tourists chatter, find me invisible and bump me with their entitlement.

After observing a child kicking at a seagull, I have had it. What is missing from these lives?

What does it mean to be human?  We desire rights but what about self-responsibility?

After my morning run, I need a pen to evacuate the frustration.  Then a dig in the garden helps. I add fresh blooms and ponder Pearl Buck's thoughts to search for amusement.

Ah! with the nurture of writing and nature, I gradually return to my ever-buoyant self.

I can't change the world but I can change my focus with creativity.

The words of Ann Patchett circulate through my brain, "Writing is a job, a talent, but it's also the place to go in your head.  It is the imaginary friend you drink your tea with in the afternoon."

I retreat to my pen as the tea water burbles to a boil.