So I've been doing great on my withdrawal from news addiction. This is a blog post about writing! That's an improvement, right? (Okay, so who watched the press conference today? My respect for him managed to grow. I didn't know it had room to grow. He is such a good listener, such a gracious man. So polite and thoughtful to the reporters.)
(Wait, one more note: who else is fascinated with the email he sent out to his supporters Wednesday? We're going to have a president who emails us. That's something, isn't it? I have a feeling he is going to continue to use his community organizing talents in his presidency. I'm looking forward to seeing what happens.)
Wishing for Love
I once heard a story about a therapist (or psychologist or psychiatrist or something) who was asked to help refugees. She was worried about how she could ever understand and help them after their experiences. In the end, she said she was surprised they were much like everyone else: hoping for love. She joked it was all about my boyfriend and I were in different boats, and he took up with another woman, etc.
The universal hope for love is probably why romances, as a genre, sell the best.
Wishing to Take Back Time
I was just thinking, the other day. I once knew someone who made a little traffic mistake, just a split second tiny oopsy, and killed someone. Last I talked to her, it was two years after the fact and she still hadn't recovered from the emotional impact. As far as I know, she moved back to her home country to be with her family.
If you think about it, she could've just gotten a ticket, no accident, and it would've been forgotten immediately. No big deal. Oopsy-daisy.
But then it had to result in hitting another car. Bigger deal. And someone died, HUGE deal.
It's strange how, in the split second after something tragic and terrible happens, you want so badly to undo what happened that your mind searches frantically for a way to undo disaster. In that moment, you almost believe you can go back in time, you have to be able to go back in time, just a couple seconds. You want it so badly you believe if you think fast, you'll be able to find a way to undo it.
But then you realize you can't.
And then I was thinking about the yearning to be understood, the need to express our feelings and thoughts and personal philosophies. Is this a writer thing, an artist thing, or part of the human condition? Do some people find their yearning satisfied by reading books, watching movies, hearing others of like mind? And are others hardwired to find their yearning satisfied by the creation of those books and movies, by the expression of their feelings?
Like yin and yang?
Wishing for a Different Destiny
Joaquin Phoenix is giving up acting. God, he's a brilliant actor; it breaks my heart. Sometimes, I think the universe gives certain gifts to certain people, but doesn't give them the desire. What do you do when you're gifted at something but don't want to do it anymore? What if the universe still needs that thing? I remember talking to one of my teachers once, and she mentioned that sometimes she felt as if the universe conspired to keep her in teaching, no matter how much she wanted out.
She's a great, fantastic teacher, one of the best of the best, truly. I can honestly see why the universe would conspire to keep her in teaching.
Real life is contrary to what "they" say.
So what do you hope for? What other wishes do you think most humans share? What do you wish for? Do you ever write characters wishing for something universal?