Old Idea New Again

When it was written back in 2002, it caused quite a stir in the book world. Much like “Passages” written by Gayle Sheehy, “The Rise of the Creative Class” seemed to usher in a new insight into our working-class world. It was a new category of worker, their lifestyle, associated urban planning, and the future of the workplace.

Now, with the miles traveled in our rearview mirror, we can look back on the pronouncements, predictions, and analysis that Richard Florida gave us and see what he got right and what missteps he might have taken. Even before the disruptions of the pandemic, there definitely was a trend toward a more creative approach in the workforce. During the pandemic, with working at home becoming the norm, this new style of workforce endeavors had become solidified in America and abroad.

Overall, Mr. Florida got it right. Over the years, the creative class has been defined, redefined, analyzed and pronounced still-born. Yet, it’s still with us in one form or another. The COVID 19 pandemic did much to prove the validity of working from home, despite its many flaws, and the growth of creative endeavors that came out of it.

The author of this latest book I’ve read on creativity has an interesting perspective on the subject. He says: “Academics have tried to measure the links between intelligence and genius. But intelligence is not enough. After a considerable debate in the sixties, psychologists have reached the conclusion that creativity is not the same as intelligence. An individual can be far more creative than he or she is intelligent, or far more intelligent than creative.”

The bottom line is that creativity, in one form or another, is still a life force to be reckoned with for so many people. Young people have wisely embraced this new mantra of work much to the concern of some older more established high priests of business, commerce and politics. But creativity isn’t just reserved for the younger worker, it can be everywhere.

Creativity in our everyday life can be all around us. We just have to open our eyes to the possibilities. It can be in the arts, in seemingly mundane activities as well as productive enterprises of every form, function, and scope.

I have found it in my writing. Sharon has captured it in her art. Many of our friends have embraced activities such as woodworking, acting in plays and movies and a host of other creative endeavors.

Simple things too like creative cooking and gardening are also good examples. ‘Earthing,’ also known as grounding, involves direct skin contact with the Earth, such as walking barefoot. It’s one approach to adopting chemical-free, eco-friendly practices in maintaining soil health, biodiversity and eliminating toxin exposure to people and pets. Eating well is no different; same concept, different receptacle.

Over the years, I’ve explored different creative approaches to life including an exploration of the mind. Mindfulness, meditation, yoga and other forms of mental relaxation have helped me juice up the creative process inside my head. It didn’t hurt to relax the body at the same time.

Ultimately what we are talking about is living our lives creatively, grasping all the wonderful opportunities around us and building a more fulfilling lifestyle in which to grow as a person. It’s being true to ourselves, our wants and wishes; our own version of True North. True North is a standard against which all courses are measured. It is the best way for us to live and be honest with ourselves and to do it creatively.

The Styx and the Dawg

Whether you choose to believe or not, the Styx and the Dawg make for fascinating reading.

While I haven’t read a lot of mystical readings about passing over to the other side, I have come across phrases that have (for whatever reason) latched on to my consciousness. As a writer, I try to be attuned to phrases that capture a moment in time, a particular scene or an emotion. They all add to the vernacular toolbox I use every day to paint picture stories in the minds of my readers. ‘Crossing the Styx’ is one such phrase. But it wasn’t the first to grab my attention.

While doing research for one of my seven novels still in limbo (outline form), I researched phrases that spoke so eloquently of that period in the Deep South. The (as yet not written) novel is called: ‘Georgia Howl.’ It’s the story of a group of disbanded Confederate soldiers making their way back home to Georgia at the end of the Civil War.

‘Fit As a Fiddle,’ ‘Grab A Root,’ Hard Case,’ and ‘Jailbird’ are all part of their nomenclature that captures that time and place in history. Another one of those phrases that so eloquently captures the language of the time and place is steeped deeply in railroad lore.

‘Goin ‘where the Southern cross’ the Dog’ was another one of those first such phrases. The phrase refers to a railroad crossing in the Deep South well known to locals and outlaws alike. A great description of this phrase comes from Greg Johnson of the University of Mississippi. This southern state has a rich and fascinating treasure lore of blues history and background.

Mr. Johnson explains ““Many early blues singers used variations on the phrase “going where the Southern cross the Dog.” The expression refers to the place in Moorhead, Mississippi, where the Yazoo and Mississippi Valley rail line intersected with the Southern rail line. Many southerners referred to the Yazoo and Mississippi line as the “Yellow Dog” or simply the “Dog” or “Dawg.” The first historical reference to blues lyrics mentions this phrase: when W. C. Handy wrote about first hearing the blues in 1903 at a train station in Tutwiler, he described a man playing guitar and repeating the phrase “Goin’ where the Southern cross’ the Dog.” Handy later popularized the phrase in his “Yellow Dog Blues” (1914). Charley Patton sang the phrase in “Green River Blues” (1929), and Kokomo Arnold used it in “Long and Tall” (1937).

Folk music is the perfect conduit for painting these mental pictures through the vernacular. Down through the ages, based on some semblance of reality, words and phrases from folk songs have given us ‘Old Hannah,’ the Southern convicts name for the punishing sun. ‘Delia,’ the name given to a bad woman, a ‘rounder’ or a ‘gambler.’ Like ‘John Hardy’ she was based on real life characters who gained immortality through song. Old railroad songs seem to be some of the most prolific image-makers.

Now another phrase stumbled across my consciousness comes from far across the sea.

‘Crossing the Styx’ has been formulated in many different configurations like ‘The River Styx’ and ‘Journey Across the Styx.’ They all mean the same thing. The Styx, which was also a female deity, formed the boundary between the world of the living and the world of the dead according to the philosopher Hades. When someone died, the psyche (spirit) of the deceased had to cross the river Styx, carried on a boat by the ferryman Charon, in order to enter the afterlife.

The concept of this ‘other side’ has long since fascinated me. The Vikings had their Valhalla or Viking heaven. Religions down through the ages have talk about, preached about, and warned about life after death; making it sound like the final tabulation.

Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu and other similar religions have their own take on this concept.

That hasn’t stopped a lot of people, including myself, from trying to explore, examine and under-stand what isn’t easily understood. It’s a journey inside one’s head without guideposts, guide-lines or borders. There’s an easy way to stretch your imaginary muscles. Henry Miller, philosopher, poet, writer and a main character in my latest suspense mystery novel ‘Playground for the Devil’ said it best:

“The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.”

When Brian and Melanie were older, I tried to do this. We would go hiking into the woods nearby and at a certain point; I’d have them sit on a log or the ground and ‘just listen.’ I made them sit quietly and listen to the sounds all around them; the birds, wind rustling leaves in the trees, distant traffic, etc. I wanted them to retreat back into their head and let their eyes see what hadn’t been seen before.

Then I would ask them what they heard and what they saw. We would talk about the visible foliage and the invisible animals around us. I wanted to them see beyond the trail we were following and embrace their surroundings. It was hard for them at first but gradually as they settled down, their senses became more attuned to their surroundings; sights and sounds and smells and atmosphere. I’d like to believe that these experiences are one reason both my kids and all my grandchildren are very active outdoors and have a great respect for their surroundings.

Try it sometime. It’s a fascinating and deeply satisfying experience.

Look beyond your eyes to where your vision melds into your memory and imagination. Let your thoughts roam free and see where they take you. Perhaps into another world, another realm just over the limits of your consciousness.

Mindfulness at Home

Out of my latest batch from Better World Books, I found a gem that surprisingly validated a new approach I’ve taken to embrace appreciation in my life. I had little more to go on than the title when I was perusing the BWB web site. But upon later review, the book opened up a whole new approach to thoughtful analysis of one’s daily life.

The Mindful Home is a book that embraces approaching life mindfully and extends it to the home environment. “The home is not grand, nor decorated by the latest trends.” Instead, the book discusses the home as an oasis for mindful exploration. It is a place that is restful, that reminds us of things beautiful and edifying, and one that is welcoming for visitors.”

Even before stumbling upon this plethora of new ideas, I’d been striving to embrace the good things happening in my life and learning to appreciate the simpler things all around me. Along with the miles traveled, I’ve seen, heard and experienced enough to know there is goodness in the air if one makes the effort to find it.

It can be a casual conversation with family. It could be my early morning sequester on the porch or pack patio which a friend has labeled as my ‘quiet time.’ It could be any opportunity just to ‘chill out’ and ‘smell the roses.’ I think my friend got that description of ‘quiet time’ spot on. It ties in nicely with my interest in yoga, meditation and other thought-fulfilling exercises.

Over the years, I’ve tried the yoga approach but never put on enough mat time to really feel I understood its benefits. Back in the mid-Sixties, I toyed with the idea of trying the newest craze among the hippie set; Transcendental Meditation but that didn’t work either. There was always some recommended pathway ahead of me but it was usually choked with self-doubt and confusion.

Those wondering / wandering meanders into the subconscious led to a lot of poetry and song lyrics being written during that period. Bookended between high school graduation and marriage, I had ten years of inspection and introspection. In retrospect, I think it was an attempt for me to capture in the vernacular, those thoughts, ideas, concepts, dreams, illusions and aspirations that escaped an easy explanation. Somehow, putting it on paper seemed to lift the fog of mystery and doubt.

As the years rolled by, those cerebral explorations of the unknown continued in a variety of locations, all of them, in one way or another, very conducive to grasping the questions still banging around in my head. The location was less important than the serenity that enveloped it as a conducive conduit for thought.

In the last couple of years, this cerebral exercise in Salon gymnastics as led to what I label as my ‘Coffee and Chat’ sessions, it’s really just a comfortable meeting among friends over coffee.

The conversation always takes on a life of its own and we just follow it along. Two old men (and a couple of women) sharing, caring and opening themselves up to one another. No subject untouched or uncovered if the moment is right. No regrets, no apologies, just an honest exchange of one self. Each of us feeling lucky we’re still around for such an honest discourse.

It’s reflective discourse we all can learn from. Mindfulness that is comforting and enlightening at the same time.