Mulling over the bigger queries

My latest quilt prepped for basting.

Writing science fiction isn't my usual gig, but it is beneficial for stirring within my gray matter questions I rarely ponder, the Why am I here and What does human culture mean in the grand scheme and What if there is life beyond our planet, those sorts of notions. Especially when I wake early and the house is quiet and it's dark outside and for all I know in those brief (or lengthy) minutes perhaps I am alone in this big wide universe, or all that I am is merely a curious soul wishing for answers.

Not that I mean to go off on some tangent, lol, but there's life as we all see it, then there's our imaginations or ruminations or whatever one ponders when all the usual flies out the window. My current novel is set in 1971, but a main character is from a distant galaxy, and despite being human, she has little in common with those she now associates. Putting myself in her shoes, I can't help but wish to push the boundaries, as she is finding her life hemmed in considerably not only by standards from over fifty years ago, but limitations due to her gender.

Wow, that's a lot to chew on so early in the week! Yet these ideas are worth at least a smidgen of my time, if only to better flesh out my character, and what about Present Me? Future Me grimaces, as I have put here a spoiler for the series, and Past Me is just happy I'm not bothering her. Well gals, this concerns all of us, because I'm quickly becoming Past Me as the seconds tick by, and Future Me, you need to get over yourself as the gatekeeper, hah! Yeah, it's that kind of day, maybe just from getting up well before dawn appeared, although daylight is growing so limited that dawn doesn't arrive until well after seven a.m.

What would someone from another cosmos think of us, not just those like me dwelling on North America, but humans in general. Would we look barbaric, civilized, boring... Of course it would heavily depend on from where said being traveled, their experiences butting up against ours. Yet we think we've come a long way, and in comparing 1971 to 2023, yes we have technologically. But wars still rage, illnesses ravage, people go hungry, die needlessly.... The human condition is better off overall, but in the grand scheme I don't think cell phones and infinite television channels are good indicators of a decent society.

Yet, maybe all this navel-gazing provokes me to be a more thoughtful writer. To bring to this story an element that matters deeply. Or maybe it's not about the writing at all, just some personal growth that may or may not end up touching a story or a quilt. I really don't know, other than more now than ever before I am trying to look outside the box, think creatively, set aside what I know. I want to grasp my perception of life and shake it like a snow globe until not merely does the fake snow swirl, but what's inside the globe alters. And I'd like to do it free from hallucinogens or other external stimuli, lol. Just permitting my mind to wander, to ponder, and to keep doing so, at least until another shiny idea appears.