Things -- and people -- well cared for need not go obsolete. Getting tired of something is a choice. Discarding the old is a choice. While we should continually improve ourselves, our materials, our technology, there is still value in preserving what lives on with quality.
That great guitar. That classic car. That recipe that still tastes good.
There was an episode of "The Twilight Zone" on this week about "Obsolete." Burgess Meredith plays a librarian who in some autocratic society had been judged (under penalty of death) as obsolete. The last forbidden book he pulls from hiding, as he awaits his execution, is a Bible. He was not truly obsolete. His value as a being was unquestionable and though thru cleverness he brings his executioner to fear at being himself on the edge of facing his own imminent death, locked in a room with a bomb, the librarian does allow mercy (in God's name) to prevail, setting free his captor even though he himself will perish.
Like many "Twilight Zone" episodes it is a metaphor, loaded with truth. The librarian is not obsolete.
Books -- in their physical form with pages you can touch and smell -- are not obsolete. E-books are wonderful. It's amazing to be able to carry a library in your pocket and search for any word or passage. We're lucky and blessed to have such great technology. That advanced technology can, and does, co-exist with the world-changing older technology of physical publishing. There's something untouchable about physical touch. Something invincible. Something lasting.
I wrote this (in my journal) by hand even though it would have been far faster to type into my computer, because as Julia Cameron insists regarding Morning Pages we do feel a tighter connection and create flow putting pen to paper. That is true for me.
My notebooks remain vital, physical reminders of the vitality of life itself. We flow on. We find the connections, We create with love and joy.
And the impact is both instant and deferred. I feel an immediate boost. A smile lights and lightens my old face making me younger. Later, the deferred part fuels a longer day and greater range of creativity. Maybe I'll make a college. Maybe I'll write a song. Maybe I'll write a play.
Possibilities abound. I'm old, but not retired, and hopefully, not obsolete.
Indeed, life is good.
-- doug smith