They often tell me I am a curious character. Well, not as such, but I am open to various new thoughts and ideas. Not just within myself. I share them with other human beings I trust. Fortunately, I have a few such friends. Secondly, I am not that young anymore. Now and then, my body indicates this state of affairs . My mind does it as well. Frequently, I perceive gaps in logic sequences and memory. These gaps usually disappear if I wait a little longer than when young.
Does my curiosity show some primary orientation? I would go the easy way and reming myself of ways I was to control my behaviour. I often think of how to behave concerning individuals being close to me. Primarily with females on whom I depend. They have ignited some subconsciously motivated reactions. One frequent reaction is to avoid conflict. This includes trying to sense and interpret signals behind the words, behaviours and facial expressions. One dominant orientation is for me to behave decently. A significant setback is, I come to know a lot about what I don’t want. Thus, I do not know much about what I do want.
At this moment in life, I am attempting to write a book. I like to write. I do it a lot. Several hours every day. Sundays and weekdays, summer and winter coming snow or sunshine. But why do I write, and about what do I want to write a book? What is that story, experience, theme or issue on which I would like to focus my abilities?
I feel as if this is the most challenging question I have ever touched. It lures in the bushes whenever I sit down and write. I never bring it out of those bushes cause I know I have no experience with this issue. I know I could fill my life with a lot of things to do. Thus avoiding that hard question.
Yesterday, I brought a tricky question out to the elves and got some pretty good suggestions for proceeding. I was lucky to get this contact with them under the old ash tree we have close to our house. Here, at this summer house, I think I have a civilized surrounding which allows me to communicate with the elves. I do not have to entangle myself in scientific proofs of their existence. I follow that primary route of practical knowledge: perform an experiment, try it out and see how it works. I do not need to know if the elves exist or if, in theory, I can communicate with me. I do not know of any scientifically solid definition of the concept of ”to exist”.
At this moment, I sense a signal. It does warn me not to get astray in the flow of things. I mean words, concepts, statements and proven methods. Possibly I have seduced myself by the sheer number of words I produce when I disregard these vague signals. I better seriously ask myself, what do? I can write a significant number of words each day. How do I guard myself against just using writing to fill any empty space I perceive.
So, where is that empty space at this very moment? What do I hear being told in this space and at this single moment?
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Göran Stille 