1. “Characterized by vision of foresight.” 2. Having the nature of fantasies or dreams; illusory. That’s from the American Dictionary of the English Language. Third Edition. It’s a thick book-weighs more than me. Full of words. An oldie but a
1. “Characterized by vision of foresight.”
2. Having the nature of fantasies or dreams; illusory.
That’s from the American Dictionary of the English Language. Third Edition. It’s a thick book-weighs more than me. Full of words. An oldie but a goodie, it has 2,140 pages.
That’s a lotta pages. A lotta words. Writers love words. Once, an editor called me a “visionary.” Is that good or is that bad? Words are a writer’s stock in trade. Some people buy our wares, some don’t. But, I’m thinking, is it good to be a visionary?
I know the value of “being here now.” Love to spend a lot of time in the now. To immerse myself in the present, feel a cool, caressing wind on my face. Taste it, touch it with my tongue. Listen to the birds. I live in old Hawaii — lucky me — and birds love it. My land is alive with the song of bird songs. Songs they have sung for a thousand years. They sing most of their songs sitting on a branch or a fence or a table top between munchings.
But I also love to travel in the past and adventure into the future. It’s a three-dimensional world.
As one grows older, it’s a temptation to live in the past. Indulge in reverie. All the good stuff, like cream on the top of old milk bottles, it’s a treat to all the inner workings of humanity. I love human beings. I love all living things. I think that’s a healthy endeavor. But I don’t think it’s healthy to dwell there.
One of my fondest memories is a country horse show. A horse named Joey. Dapple gray Anglo Arab. His mama was an Arab, his daddy was an American Saddlebred. Joey could walk with any Tennessee Walker he met up with. His was the classic American Saddlebred rack. A four-beat walk that moved. The event I remember, though, was this: The ring was in a sunken amphitheater. Horse shows were big time events in California in those days. A hundred people must have been seated above and surrounding the arena. Joey and I were standing on level ground at the top and in the ring a costume event was taking place. A cowboy on a horse and two guys in a cow costume, one the front legs, the other the back legs, were cavorting. Joey shorted, lifted his tail, arched his neck, and pranced his way through the seated crowd. I just sat there enjoying the ride. My mother almost fainted. It was a risky business threading our way through the chairs. We stole the show and the cowboys loved it. When Joey got close enough to see what they really were, he said, for all to see and hear, “What a bunch of goofs.”
So what has this to do with visionary? Well, you can envision the past. Relive it. Write about it as I’m doing here and I think that’s a delightfully healthy visionary thing to do.
• Bettejo Dux is a Kalaheo resident and the author of “The Scam: A madcap romp through North Shore Kauai.”
