Series (Family): The Birth of Tippy Gnu

The Birth of Tippy Gnu: Preface

We begin my book, The Birth of Tippy Gnu, with the Preface. Every few days following this will be a new installment, as we progress deeper and deeper into the book.


The Birth of Tippy Gnu:
Preface

 

From a young age, my megalomaniacal ego urged me to write my autobiography. But my pride in my humility always resisted this urge. The two forces battled it out for decades, but finally pride lost. One day I caved into my ego, faced my keyboard, rubbed my hands together, cackling like a madman, and commenced typing.

I didn’t get far. For the life of me, I could not get past the time of my birth. I kept drawing a blank. But I persevered, and finally managed to conjure up some memories. These were the highlights of my life. My achievments. But as I pondered these highlights, I felt a powerful lethargy dragging me under. I couldn’t stop yawning. And eventually I succumbed to a deep sleep.

Over and over, day after day, I repeated this exercise of reviewing the highlights of my life, only to find myself face first on top of my keyboard, with drool shorting out the circuits beneath.

I learned to buy cheaper and cheaper replacement keyboards. But I couldn’t figure out how to prevent losing consciousness, and over time even these cheap keyboards put a strain on my wallet. Finally one day, as I was chucking a fried keyboard into the trash, the truth hit me. I realized I had no interest in the highlights of my life. I was literally boring myself to death.

It occurred to me that what I was most interested in was not the things that happened after I was born, but rather, the events prior to birth.

I felt much more excited about what happened before I exited the womb, than after. Because it seemed to me that one cannot understand the after until one becomes acquainted with the before. The before explains it all. And then there’s no need to discuss the after, and all the monotonous details.

All anybody needs, to understand my life, is to know what was going on with me before I arrived in this world. Before my birth. Before the water broke. Before each trimester. And even before conception. That is where the foundation lies. And the grand design. The blueprint. That is what makes me, me.

Therefore, this autobiography of Tippy Gnu is about the birth of Tippy Gnu. It’s about what happened before birth, during, and immediately after. It does not concern itself with the details of my childhood, my schooling, my romances, my various careers, nor any other folderol I may have involved myself in as a human bean.

After the reader learns about my birth, the reader will know as much about me as the reader will need to know.

Birth is the creation of human life. It’s as much a spiritual event as it is biological. The two are intertwined, at first loosely, but gradually more and more tightly, like a spool of string reeling in a kite. In this autobiography, I’ll provide the spiritual details. But I’ll also throw in some biological minutia, for your scientific curiosity. For the former, I spent my research time in meditative reflection. For the latter, I researched on the internet.

I’ll take the reader through the biological stages of human gestation, from conception all the way to parturition. And I’ll throw my soul, my spirit, the very heart of me, into these stages, and show how they affected my inner core. That is how the reader will learn about me. That is how the reader will come to understand my true essence.

So now, let’s go back. Way back. Back to when I was not thought about in this world, nor ever had been. To a time when Earth had been spinning along on its wobbly orbit quite well without me for over four billion years. To a time before conception, when I was but a twinkle in my happy-go-lucky father’s eye. For that is where my story starts.

That is the true beginning.


Come on back in a few days for that true beginning, when I’ll post Conception: Introduction to The Birth of Tippy Gnu.

43 replies »

  1. I am not sure that I have ever had a twinkle in my eye, but they must exist since you were once one.

    Sometimes I think about how long it will be after you are dead before once again the world knows not that you ever existed. Even the most remembered people were all within the last few thousand years. Before that, there were thousands of individuals and while their DNA goes on in many cases, there is no real record of the existence of most of these individuals. And in a few thousand years, the same may be said of all off us.

    Liked by 1 person

      • I’ve completely lost my muse for the written word. Instead I’ve been expressing myself through artwork, but I’m afraid my writing is better than my art 😉

        During this whole lockdown thing, I’ve drifted away from the blogging world. I keep waiting for my muse to show back up again. I picture her also in self-isolation somewhere 😏

        Liked by 1 person

        • I don’t know how you’d lose your muse, as I understand Canada has lots of muses. Or is that mooses?
          Well at least your muse won’t catch Covid, if it’s in isolation.
          I like your artwork, and am not so sure if it’s not as good as your writing. I think you could have a nice blog that just features your art.

          Like

          • I hope my muse doesn’t eventually turn up smelling all moose-y … although I suspect I will just be really glad to have her back again – smell and all 😏

            Thanks for the kind words. Like all new mothers, I’m exceptionally proud of all my little ‘offspring’ in all their imperfect glory. I’m afraid however that giving them an audience would imply I think I have talent. I know there is a world of difference between a real talent and an acquired skill … or in my case, a developing skill.

            Liked by 1 person

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