13 November 2017:
“Stuff your eyes with wonder,” Ray Bradbury says in Zen in the Art of Writing. “Live as if you’d drop dead in seconds. See the world.”
Wise words.
But how do I use that kind of sense practically? How do I heed the call? How do I see the world?
Of course, Ray’s advice could stop at “Stuff your eyes with wonder.” We all could go home with that. That, in itself, is sensible, and good enough for me. The rest is surplus, extra, tacked-on confusion.
See the world, Ray says.
But surely he doesn’t mean the whole world. He must mean any fragment of the world. He must mean any moment, any fine epitome. See, any cricket on a porch rail—is the world. Any cat or cardinal or vegetable garden in your own backyard—is the world.
Your world.
- Live.
- “Stuff your eyes with wonder.”
- See your world.
A minor critique, Ray, to your wise words, and I apologize, but now I can use them. Now I can move on.
Writing from Here 