Hobbies mostly boil down to music, sports or collecting stuff. Think about it.
She's already an avid reader.
"You can also be a writer," I proffered.
I had tried to interest her in fashion design a few years back by giving her a dress mannequin one Christmas. She seems to have a talent for that, but like many other things she started with, it then sort of fell by the wayside. That endless loop-to-nowhere reminded me of my own fruitless attempt at acquiring "hobbies". (I'd hate to be in her shoes right now in this place and time.)
But then, the more I thunk on it, I began to see all pursuits as "hobbies." In my mind I added all craft-like ventures in "making stuff" to the list, e.g., sewing, or painting, ceramics, metal sculpting, or other arty-like things — even a service industry trade like electrical, plumbing or carpentry can be a hobby; or perhaps the professions of law, medicine and accountancy, etc., ad nauseum.
[This is when I felt a blog post coming on...a sort of BM of the mind...and I knew I would sit down to write it out...]
As I thunk on it some more, I thought perhaps "research" is an ideal hobby. You get a notion or a "fact" or an idea, then trace it down to its bare bones, looking for evidence along the way to support or not support your chosen subject. Theoretically at least, that's what scientists do; and what lawyers do too. In fact, that's what thinking is; real critical thinking. Still, how many people stop short of checking and double-checking their facts? How many of us just "go" with sources we have somehow come to accept as reliable?
As a grandfather I can say with a certain surety that as we age we have to think about tomorrow: our children, our children's children — at our age it boils down to "what can I leave them that will help them along without ruining their own self-motivating behavior?" In other words, how do we leave them "something" that will give them an advantage without spoiling them?
This is my conundrum right now, with some inheritance dough I've suddenly acquired (while knowing it could vanish any day now as a government declared "investment product")—it's challenging to figure out (1) how to protect it, and then (2) how to put-it-to-work for the betterment of the world around me.
As I think about helping to prepare my granddaughter to navigate through the world (or just avoid "boredom") I am careful to point out the spirit realm as being more real than the world of things; the welfare of our souls is the prime directive — who wouldn't agree (unless you're some depressed atheist)? Our lives will fall into place if we just manage to insert ourselves into the universal-God-plan of "Not my will but Thy will be done."
The tricky thing, however, is how to make that invisible world manifest, and thus meaningful, in this materialist age — and then pray that we are able to fall into the grace of the Holy Ghost and be swept away by that. (Now that's asking a lot of a nine-year old girl.)
American State Nationals (such as myself) have a good grip on our political/governmental conundrum. But who has a grip on the crisis of our spiritual essence? These two do dovetail, I think, when it comes to freedom. Freedom is essential to our overall being — physical, mental and spiritual. And yet, on that spiritual level, there is so much more to be tapped and optimized than a young granddaughter tends to think about on a daily basis.
And so, after this conversation with my granddaughter (and the follow-up thoughts on the subject) I've decided, poor dope that I am, to stop immersing myself in what limits me from "getting there" and instead concentrate much more on what are the means of "getting out of our shared, collective rut."
As I began empathizing with my granddaughter on the idea of developing a "hobby," it reminded me of my latest discovery, namely, the idea of "safari." I have found that going on "safari" — especially my own notions of a "forever safari" — is both a "to-do" option and a metaphor for the larger game we're in; a game of working out "the grace at the encounter," that is, toggling the spiritual essence of ourselves, of what exists between us, our inner selves, while we slog on through life, bumping into and falling over each other as we go.
(to be continued)
As I thunk on it some more, I thought perhaps "research" is an ideal hobby. You get a notion or a "fact" or an idea, then trace it down to its bare bones, looking for evidence along the way to support or not support your chosen subject. Theoretically at least, that's what scientists do; and what lawyers do too. In fact, that's what thinking is; real critical thinking. Still, how many people stop short of checking and double-checking their facts? How many of us just "go" with sources we have somehow come to accept as reliable?
As a grandfather I can say with a certain surety that as we age we have to think about tomorrow: our children, our children's children — at our age it boils down to "what can I leave them that will help them along without ruining their own self-motivating behavior?" In other words, how do we leave them "something" that will give them an advantage without spoiling them?
This is my conundrum right now, with some inheritance dough I've suddenly acquired (while knowing it could vanish any day now as a government declared "investment product")—it's challenging to figure out (1) how to protect it, and then (2) how to put-it-to-work for the betterment of the world around me.
As I think about helping to prepare my granddaughter to navigate through the world (or just avoid "boredom") I am careful to point out the spirit realm as being more real than the world of things; the welfare of our souls is the prime directive — who wouldn't agree (unless you're some depressed atheist)? Our lives will fall into place if we just manage to insert ourselves into the universal-God-plan of "Not my will but Thy will be done."
The tricky thing, however, is how to make that invisible world manifest, and thus meaningful, in this materialist age — and then pray that we are able to fall into the grace of the Holy Ghost and be swept away by that. (Now that's asking a lot of a nine-year old girl.)
American State Nationals (such as myself) have a good grip on our political/governmental conundrum. But who has a grip on the crisis of our spiritual essence? These two do dovetail, I think, when it comes to freedom. Freedom is essential to our overall being — physical, mental and spiritual. And yet, on that spiritual level, there is so much more to be tapped and optimized than a young granddaughter tends to think about on a daily basis.
And so, after this conversation with my granddaughter (and the follow-up thoughts on the subject) I've decided, poor dope that I am, to stop immersing myself in what limits me from "getting there" and instead concentrate much more on what are the means of "getting out of our shared, collective rut."
As I began empathizing with my granddaughter on the idea of developing a "hobby," it reminded me of my latest discovery, namely, the idea of "safari." I have found that going on "safari" — especially my own notions of a "forever safari" — is both a "to-do" option and a metaphor for the larger game we're in; a game of working out "the grace at the encounter," that is, toggling the spiritual essence of ourselves, of what exists between us, our inner selves, while we slog on through life, bumping into and falling over each other as we go.
(to be continued)
