In the comments of my last post, long-time visitor and commenter on my blog, Hindsfeet, from Bird's Eye View, said that while she enjoys my photos, "can I tell you, I miss your writing...your muses.....(that's a compliment, by the way)....well, just thought I'd cast my unsolicited vote there...you have some really interesting wheels spinnin' about in your noggin and I miss riding some o' those trains of thought of yours : )"
Earlier this year I changed the name of this blog from "Ramblings of the Bearded One" to "Painting With Shadows" to reflect the shift in direction and emphasis in my creative expression (see this post). I'd noticed for some time (see this post back from June 2009) that I'd stopped thinking in terms of blog posts and started thinking in terms of photographic images, and this was beginning to affect the content of this little corner of the Internet.
This is not to say I've ceased having philosophical thoughts about life, only that I'm less likely to take the time to hone them into a concise written piece for the blog - quite simply, this written form of expression doesn't flow as easily as it once did.
However, a wee while ago I wrote a short story I wasn't sure quite what to do with, and it's sat doing nothing since. In light of Hindsview's comment, perhaps now's the time to post it.
Or scratch your head.
Or ignore and come back next week when I might have some photos up.
A Tale of Two Jellyfish
Once upon a time, there were two little jellyfish, floating in the sea, carried along by tides and currents far beyond their control. Tentacles dangling down, they had to wait until passing food was swept into their path before they could eat, while hoping they in turn wouldn’t be swept into the mouth of something larger.
Unable to do anything about their destinies, they lived in the moment, making the most of the here and now. Their lives might be over tomorrow, but today they were alive, and that made them happy.
One day, one of the jellyfish discovered that if he concentrated really hard, he could cause the dome at the top of his body to contract and release, which had the effect of moving him slightly.
This discovery had a profound impact on his outlook. Suddenly he no longer felt powerless, but realised he could change the course of his life. Now he could go in search of food rather than waiting for it to come to him. And most of all, rather than be helplessly deposited into the jaws of a passing shark or turtle, he might, just might, be able to swim out of the way.
From that day on, he was constantly fearful of not finding food, and of the real and constant dangers all around him, only too aware that while he had some control of his direction, it was still very limited compared to the currents of the ocean.
However, this ability of independent movement did give him a slight advantage and he outlived his still happy, but clueless friend who was swept into the path of a passing swordfish. Thus he was able to pass on the knowledge of how to contract and release his dome, along with his nervousness, fear and anxiety to the next generation.