Author: Shelley Powers

Yesterday in a posting, I planted the seeds of analogy and today we’ll watch them spring forth as fully bloomed metaphors.

Mike throws another thread into the void with a discussion about why we blog. The posting is somewhat based on Dvorak’s article, but it also takes a closer look at what we mean when we say the word “fun”. We weblog because it’s fun, but what is fun? Is it, as Mike says, not the same as pleasure?

What is fun. Might as well ask what is life and receive as many responses.

Mike defines fun as watching a game or riding a roller coaster. I agree, but take it one step further: if you consider that life, with its heights of pleasure and depths of pain as one big roller coaster that you can ride only once, then all of life is fun. Calling our singular journey through time “fun” doesn’t demean or lessen the value of the experience. Instead, it invites one to see the fear and the joy and the laughter that is tangential to the trip.

Yesterday I talked about my walk among the dog people, and my observations of the dogs as they enjoyed the beach, the water, and the company (canine and human).

I talked about the black lab that would bring me her ball to throw and then take it away before I could grasp it. In this process she was inviting me to share her wonder, her special moment, her fun, as we invite others to share ours, in our weblogs and in our lives. I tease the world to laugh with me, to play with me, as this dog teases her owner and willing participants such as myself with her ball.

The Jack Daniels barked at the mighty ocean with all the confidence in the world that it could move those waters back and return his friends to him. There are no impossible challenges to a dog, just as there are no impossible challenges to those who are determined on a course that they must and will follow.

The mountain climber climbs the peaks because they are there. The singers sings because the melody must be heard. The writer writes because the words demand to be read. There is a need in our lives to find our unique challenge within each of us, and then meet it. When we are successful, when the waves roll back, then we throw our arms open and embrace the air. And it is fun — the highest peak of the roller coaster.

The Boxer would dash into the water again and again in its quest to capture the stick thrown by its master. Left unchecked the dog would literally drown in its drive to find what was thrown. A simple goal for the dog, but no less intense than the drive that leads us to find cures for illness, the secrets of the Rosetta stone, whether there is life on other planets, the meaning of God, the meaning of Life.

Is it too much of a stretch to call these purposeful and intense actions fun? Perhaps. But if the roller coaster’s intensity is one factor leading to the fun of the ride, than would I be wrong in equating the intensity of purpose and drive to one aspect of the fun of living? Is that a trivialization? Or is it really more of a simplification?

My favorite of the dogs was and will always be the red Doberman. That she singled me out on the beach to approach. That she sat beside me. That she leaned into me with such open trust. When we reach out to others, in person, or via the threaded void that is the weblogging and the Internet, we also put a measure of trust in those who receive the message. Will they shy away? Will they reach back? Will real affection result, or is the contact as ephemeral as the medium used to transmit the message.

When I write this, I am very much like that red Doberman, except that I’m approaching 2 people, 10 people, 100 people asking them to let me sit beside them at this moment, to lean against them, to share a moment together. And in that moment is companionship and contentment, perhaps the smoothest and most velvet form of fun there is.

There are no right or wrong answers to the question of what is fun; the answers will be as individual as the people. I do know, though, that it will be fun to hear what each has to say.

I envy Mike at Keep Trying in his ability to generate a challenging topic and then open the discussion on said topic in such a way that the discussion remains both thoughtful and interesting. He did this with yesterday’s posting on self-appraisal. I won’t reference much of his posting and the responses — you should take time and read these yourself — but I did want to comment on one paragraph in today’s posting.

I think one answer is that we are dealing with internal qualities. We have to ask ourselves these questions. This is very difficult. But if we believe that an important part of life is to improve ourselves then it is a worthwhile task. Having fun is great and necessary but that is just one small aspect of life. The pleasures of meaning and purpose are much greater and longer lasting than fun.

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I walk, almost daily, along the beach next to the Golden Gate Bridge. This beach also happens to be one of the few areas in San Francisco where dogs are allowed off their leashes, to run along the sand and play among the waves.

There’s a particular black lab I know that comes up to you and drops her ball just out of your reach. When you reach for it to throw it for her, she lunges in and grabs it out of your grasp and then dances around in delight at her own cleaverness. Then back again with the ball, dropping it down, expecting me to make another attempt.

One of the Jack Daniels tries to keep up with the bigger dogs, running as hard as it can on its short stubby legs among the labs and the dobermans and the shepherds…until the other dogs run into the water.

The waves along the beach aren’t that small or that gentle and a small dog is not going to be able to swim in these waters. All that poor little Jack Daniels can do when his larger friends jump into the water is to stand at the edge and bark for all its might. Wave rolls out, he runs forward; wave rolls in, he runs back. That cute little bugger barking at the ocean, in his mind having brief moments of triumph when the waves recede, setbacks when the waves return. He only stops when his friends exit the water, at this point having achieved a state of truce with the water.

One of my favorite dogs is a beautiful Boxer who loves to play in the water so much that his owner has to restrict him because the dog would exhaust himself and drown — the play means that much to him.

Once, a large red doberman came out of no where, walked right up to me, circled behind me, and then sat down beside me as if we were in a dog show demonstrating obedience. She then leaned for all she was worth against my leg. And just stayed there, looking out a the water. I was astonished at first, and then just started laughing. It was a moment of crystalline pure delight. The kind of moment you can’t buy, build, borrow, or create.

Absolute joy at simple gifts. I define this as fun, and it is my greatest meaning in life. And creating a little of that joy in others is my greatest purpose.

Inquiring fans want to know why I call my blogroll the Plutonian list.

Because it’s shorter than “This is a list of my favorite weblogs that I go out and read on a daily basis, and through whom I achieve enlightment, have fun, get a giggle, expand my horizens, and generally becoming a better and more interesting as well as more rounded person because of these weblogs”?

The Australians are also Plutonians but are here on visas, which is why they’re listed as the Delegation.

How’s that?