I found John Wesley’s “arrow through the air” metaphor in a letter he wrote to Anne Granville in 1730. After writing my first blog post on this, I decided I should see if anyone else had written about this. This resulted in numerous hits (including this blog!), but in reading a great many of them, I found they referred to a different passage in Wesley’s writing, to the Introduction to his printed sermons from about the year 1759. Here’s the passage.

“To candid reasonable men, I am not afraid to lay open what have been the inmost thoughts of my heart. I have thought, I am a creature of a day, passing through life as an arrow through the air. I am a spirit come from God, and returning to God, just hovering over the great gulf; till a few moments hence, I am no more seen; I drop into an unchangeable eternity! I want to know one thing, the way to heaven, how to land safe on that happy shore. God Himself has condescended to teach the way; for this very end He came down from heaven. He hath written it down in a book. Oh, give me that book! At any price, give me the book of God!”

So twenty-nine years later, Wesley is still using his metaphor, still seeing in his life a comparison to that rushing shaft on its way to a target, momentarily disturbing those invisible gases it encounters and leaving no mark during the passage. Only at the target does the arrow have impact. Wesley refined the metaphor over time. Here’s how he used it in his earlier writing:

“Strange, to look back on a train of years that have passed, ‘as an arrow through the air,’ without leaving any mark behind them, without our being able to trace them in our improvement!”

First the metaphor was concerning personal improvement, looking ahead to a life that should be full of impact, and fearing that will not be achieved. Later he wrote of the temporary nature of human existence on earth. Different concerns; same metaphor. Wesley’s use of quotes around it leads one to believe this is not the first time that metaphor has been used in print. Perhaps he read it and appropriated it for a sort of life motto.

I’m not sure I’m quite ready to draw life-changing conclusions from all of this. I like the original use of the metaphor better than the latter. The latter, however, gets much more attention in the post-Wesley world, and who am I to dispute the scholars? In fact, ‘twould not surprise me to find this popping up several more times in the writing of this great man. “As an arrow through the air”; how apt a metaphor.

Today I continue with thoughts gleaned from John Wesley’s “arrow through the air” passage in the 1731 letter to Mrs. Pendarves. I plan on one more post with this passage, and will move on to other things as soon as possible thereafter.

In the letter, one of Wesley’s main concerns was that his life seemed to have little impact on the world. As I said before, he saw himself passing through life like that arrow, moving invisible gases, no apparent effect on the world. That would be true until…

…he hit a target. This is what Wesley doesn’t say. An arrow eventually lands somewhere; it hits a target. In the battles of old, such as depicted in Braveheart, the target was a long way off and sometimes unseen. As depicted in The Lord of the Rings trilogy, the targets were visible, and significantly closer. The archer could see what he aimed at, and quickly know if his missile had the desired effect. How satisfying for Legolas to be able to count his kills.

As a wannabe writer, the target—publication—seems a long way off. And unfortunately, they (i.e. the publishing industry) seem to keep moving the target. First it was write words so compelling that no editor could turn them down. Then it was promotion; you, the writer, have to promote your own books because the publisher won’t. Then it was must develop a promotion plan before pitching your book. Now it’s platform; you must have a ready-made market for your book before pitching your book. All I can ask is, What’s next?

But I have one thing I can do to overcome this. I can move the target myself. I can move it closer; that is, I can aim at something much closer than a book. Perhaps my newspaper column, which is ready to go but for which I have hesitated putting in the marketing time, is a nearer target I should aim at. The reason for my hesitation? Fear that the time commitment, to research, writing, and marketing, will swallow up all the time I have for creative writing, leaving no time to write books, let alone market them. The same would be true for freelancing. That would be a closer target, much closer, but again would swallow precious time. Still, in terms of clips, platform building, networking, maybe those are the targets I should be shooting for.

My decision? Give me a minute, or at least until after the writers conference next week.

Writers write, right?

Somehow I’ve got to carve out some time each day to write; posting on this blog might be that only time for a while. I’ve got to leave the television during this fascinating election season, leave the political readings and writings, leave the silly little writings I do now and then, and focus on my writing “career”. Hopefully I’ll post here more frequently, even if only short posts.

I want to go back to the quote from one of John Wesley’s letters, which I wrote about in a couple of post recently. Here’s the quote, with particular part I want to focus on today highlighted.

“…I am afraid of nothing more than of growing old too soon, of having my body worn out before my soul is past childhood. Would it not be terrible to have the wheels of life stand still, when we had scarce started for the goal; before the work of the day was half done, to have the night come, wherein no one can work? I shiver at the thought of losing my strength before I have found [it]; to have my senses fail ere I have a stock of rational pleasures, my blood cold ere my heart is warmed with virtue! Strange, to look back on a train of years that have passed, ‘as an arrow through the air,’ without leaving any mark behind them, without our being able to trace them in our improvement!”

“Before the work of the day was half done”–that is written for me. I feel like so much of my time is not productive, is not seeing results. It is the true “arrow through the air”, doing nothing but move invisible gases. At work, much of what I do now is self-starter stuff. I work alone, waiting for people to call of come by my desk with their most difficult engineering problems. Yet almost all the people who came by on a regular basis, who cared about learning how to solve their problems, have been laid off. Now, with few exceptions, I only see those who want me to solve their problem for them, not teach them how to solve it. When waiting for these problems to come my way, I have my own residual projects with soft, self-imposed deadlines, and I have work to keep our corporate engineering standards up to date. It is all self-starter stuff, and I find myself not self-starting the stuff.

My writing is all self-starter stuff, except for this Life Group study I’m developing, writing, and teaching; well, I guess that is self-starter stuff, cause I self-started it. But all the other stuff I want to write, I have to make myself do it. In the words of Emerson, “the good world manifests very little impatience” for my writings. If I don’t go after it, I’m not even moving invisible gases.

In all this self-starter stuff, especially the non-vocational stuff, something must yield to make way. Yet, with a fixed number of hours in the day, little is left to yield. While in my mind I embrace that “there is time enough for all that I must do”, reality is that the days are clicking off toward that time when the night comes, “wherein no one can work.” The road to publishing is so long and arduous, that right now I truly fear “the wheels of live [will] stand still” long before my self-starter stuff is done.

An arrow through the air.