100 Days of Wonder – #90
Now that Christmas and birthday are done, we enter that weird time between Christmas and New Year. The old not quite done, the new not quite here. You get glimpses of the possibilities and potential of what is to come but you’re also not quite ready to let go of what was. I love this liminality. I love being in liminal spaces, maybe because of the promise of endless possibilities and new adventures that they hold. There’s the possibility of new ways of thinking, new ways of doing things, of positive change and discovery but at this point there is no risk, no threat of chucking the baby out with the bathwater and abandon the good in the pursuit of the new. Liminal is uncertain, yes, but it’s exciting.
Disney World is incredibly good at creating spaces that, to me anyway, feel very liminal. There are no harsh endings and beginning just lots of transitions. You can see it everywhere. For example as you walk from the Contemporary Resort to the Magic Kingdom, you move along the path and it’s very resort like but you transition to Magic Kingdom park bit by bit as you walk along the path with commemorative bricks, through security, past themed bins, under the railways arches and into Main Street USA. As you walk under the arches there is a change and the opening up into Main Street is as close as you will come to a big reveal – but it doesn’t feel jarring or sudden. It feels like you have been building to it and when you get there you are ready. You see it in the parks with the transitions between worlds. You can linger with the magic of the castle right until you are carried away by the anticipation of Tomorrowland. Or, if you go the other way, you can feel the pixie dust right until the excitement of Adventureland hits. You never feel like you have to exit, or stop, instead you transition easily, comfortably and without ever breaking the spell from one story into the next. You also see it within rides. You transition through a liminal not quite park, not quite ride space as you make your way through the queue and somehow it keeps the magic alive. My brain really likes the lack of stopping and starting different things and the encouragement to just flow from one to the other through these spaces that are both nothing and the places you came from and the places you are going at the same time. It seems I like being in-between – where nothing has yet finished and anything is possible.
100 Days of Wonder – #32
Every story needs a villain. Does it though? Couldn’t we write our stories without someone having to be the villain? Is it just easier to write yourself as the good guy if there is a bad guy to contrast with? I’ve been thinking about this because recently I have had lots of conversations about the the state of Higher Education in England and the impact it is having on academics. Inevitably conversations turn to toxic workplaces and the villains of our stories. And of course I like to think I am one of the good guys, I like to think that I have used the privilege and power I have as a force for good, to champion and lift others, to help change the world and make it just a little bit brighter. I also like to think that I, like the Disney heroes have fought my battles and come through. But I also know that I am the villain in the stories others might tell. A shift of perspective and suddenly I am all the things that have been said about me. I have been thinking about this since I first mentioned this in a post 10 days ago or so. The Hero/Villain dichotomy just doesn’t work. Our lives and who we are are far too complex for that but we like to simplify things and the thing is, if we can point to a villain in our story then we must be the hero. If there is a bad guy then we must be a good guy and if there is evil then we are the good that triumphs. But I’m not any of those things. I’m not a hero or a good guy and I am not some abstract good that defeats some abstract evil. I am, like all of us, deeply flawed and complex. I do think we struggle to write our stories without a villain because defining who we are is so much easier with reference to something else. The Scarlet Witch in Marvel says ‘I don’t need you to tell me who I am’ but actually we do need to other characters in our stories to be able to define who we are or are not. Binaries, dichotomies, black and white… it’s all easy and it’s a way of telling ourselves that we’re ok. I do still struggle to see how some of the people in my story are anything other than villains. I find it hard to see how to rewrite those stories in a way that doesn’t position me on one side and them on the other and then conceptualises one side as good and the other as evil. But that’s never going to be helpful because while it may be true that there were sides, the rest is less clear and depends on whether you ask them or me. And maybe my overly reflective nature doesn’t help here. I tend to look back and overthink and dwell on the past and that lends itself to rewriting our stories. But, as one of Disney/Marvel’s heroes and villains said ‘Don’t Look Back. The Past Is Exactly Where It Belongs‘ (The Scarlet Witch). That might be the key. Look forward in your story and treat every new character with kindness. If we all do that maybe none of the rest really matters. But while we figure out how to do that, there is always a Disney Villains parade where you can see the line up of all the bad guys we love to hate.
100 Days of Wonder – #13
The picture is of the Contemporary Resort taken from the ferry that connects the Magic Kingdom to the Ticket and Transportation Centre. It was taken in January 2006 and the now familiar sight of the Bay Lake Tower which would be to the left of the building is missing. I talked about familiarity and it’s importance in previous posts but looking at this photo made me think about it more. It’s not just that our brains need something familiar (my base camp in the 100 acre wood) to go explore (learn from), my brain needs the familiar to focus and also sometimes to recharge. I am actually quite happy at the limits of my comfort zone and I like change and new and different. But I also like familiar. I like it to rest my brain and also to focus. I go to the music I listened to over and over and over when I was younger when I am writing. I like writing in my Mum’s house with its mix of things I remember from being little, some of mine and Kath’s old furniture and some new bits and pieces and as much as I like exploring new places and having adventures, I like going back to the Contemporary. The smell as you walk in, the sounds, the knowing where things are. Familiar doesn’t necessarily mean ‘the same as it was’. It’s more about how a place, music, book or whatever makes me feel. I don’t mind Bay Lake Tower now being there, I don’t mind there being new things to discover every time we go. It doesn’t make it any less familiar. I think maybe it’s about not having to think too much about things and just feeling at home in a space or moment.
My Conversations 