The Visionary

1. “Characterized by vision of foresight.”

2. Having the nature of fantasies  or dreams; illusory.

That’s from the American Dictionary of the English Language. Third Edition. It’s a thick book-weighs more than me. Full of words. An oldie but a goodie, it has 2,140 pages

That’s a lotta pages. A lotta words. Writers love words.  Once an Editor called me a ‘visionary’. Is that good or is that bad? Words are a writer’s stock in trade. Some people buy our wares, some don’t. But, I’m thinking, is it good to be a visionary?

I know the value of ‘being here now’.  Love to spend a lot of time in the now. To immerse myself in the present, feel a cool caressing wind on my face.  Taste it, touch it with my tongue. Listen to the birds. I live in old Hawaii-lucky me-and birds love it. My land is alive with the song of bird songs. Songs they have sung for a thousand years. They sing most of their songs sitting on a branch or a fence or a table top between munchings

But I also love to travel in the past and adventure into the future. It’s  a three dimensional world.

As one grows older, it’s a temptation to live in lhe past. Indulge in reverie. All the good stuff, like cream on the top of old milk bottles, it’s a treat to all the inner workings of humanity. I love human beings. I love all living things. I think that’s  a healthy endeavor. But I don’t think it’s healthy to dwell there.

One of my fondest memories is a country horse show. A horse named Joey. Dapple gray Anglo Arab. His mama was an Arab, his daddy was an American Saddlebred. Joey could walk with any Tennessee Walker he met  up with. His was the classic American Saddlebred rack. A four beat walk that moved. The event I remember, though,  was this: the ring was in a ‘sunken’ amphitheater.  Horse shows were big time events in California in those days. A hundred people must have been seated above and surrounding the arena. Joey and I were standing on level ground at the top and in the ring a costume event was taking place. A cowboy on a horse and two guys in a cow costume, one the front legs, the other the back legs, were cavorting. Joey shorted, lifted his tail, arched his neck, and pranced his way through the seated crowd. I just sat there enjoying the ride. My mother almost fainted.  It was a risky business threading our way through the chairs.  We stole the show and the cowboys loved it. When Joey got close enough to see what they really were, he said, for all to see and hear, “What a bunch of goofs.”

So what has this to do with visionary? Well, you can envision the past. Relive it. Write about it as I’m doing here and I think that’s a delightfully healthy visionary thing to do.

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2 Responses

  1. Amen it’s fun to livre in the past, especially if you’ve lived an exciting life like betejo and myaself.

    BTW “As one grow older,” should be “as one grows older,” editor

    Like

  2. sorry for my typos… live, like Bettejo and myself

    Like

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