Brief thoughts
Writing is a funny thing. The Muse has been absent of late… or perhaps the small voice of inspiration has been drowned out by the hubbub of the mundane. I often feel required to write, but the necessary compulsion, or gumption, is absent. Yet, without the creative drive it is worthless; I would simply turn out the dry and technical writing of the proposals, guidelines and reports that across my desk on a daily basis. Oddly, the best of my writing is not a matter of keystrokes but rather scrawl on a page of real paper, as if the pen itself has some mythical power to induce prose that the sterile computer screen does not.
Time is a funny thing. You would think that, isolated as we are, one long day stretches before the next, hours and minutes waiting in dusty rank to be filled…. but time is not linear; it is dynamic, logarithmic, compound, complex. Moments, in love, lust and desperation can fill an eternity, and when distraction and thrill is rife an age can pass all too swiftly. I admit to having great plans for my time here in Antarctica: studying, writing ‘the’ book, creating a course for wilderness medicine, turning out articles to turn journal’s heads. When I compare that to what I have achieved I am ashamed, yet every moment has been filled. Granted, spending time with the people here, having long and wonderful conversations over wine and dinner has taken more time than I believed I ever could, and little distractions â?? watching the odd movie and too many series â?? has stolen hours. Yet, I know that time has not been wasted, but lived, and life moves on. We must value our small successes, hold true to goals, and not feel remiss for time well lived.