Yesterday I lunched with the person who saved my life. No, I’m not being dramatic nor am I overstating her importance. This person saved me from the worst of myself and a bitch of an illness.
We talked about the writing career that emerged from this shiteous time and I expressed that I was still stunned with all that had happened so far. How could something so amazing come from such a horrible time?
Because I err on the side of mystery and love me some hippie shit, I claimed my talents emerging were a reward from the hard times I had been through.
My Sainted Lunch Companion rebutted with the argument, that the skills were always there, I just never had the time to stop and explore them.
There was always something else asking to be heard and attended to: university, weddings, babies, friends, family, houses, starting a business, running a business, trying to save a business, trying to save myself.
Then one day I stopped functioning and the only thing I was capable of, was watching Gilmore Girls and sleeping, often simultaneously.
As I began to repair, my Doctor asked me to do something that wasn’t too taxing, something creative, inspired. Do something I never had time to explore before.
Since my craft skills are next to nothing, I did the only other thing I knew how to, I wrote.
And this dear readers, is the root of the root and the bud of the bud – being able to stop and explore.
Adulthood is tough but the worst part is that nobody told you there would be no time to play or explore. There will be no days to sit and colour in or draw or reread the books that thrill you. No time to make up games and built imaginary nests or forts. No time to climb trees or look at clouds or make up dances and song and jokes. No time for you, just time for tasks and lists and ‘must do’s’.
It sucks alot. More than I realised.
I remember putting side things I wanted to explore when I did have the time but I chose to do something else with instead (like decoupage. WTF?). I thought I would have time, lots and lots of time to do things. I was deluded.
Once a pregnant woman told me she was planning on doing all the things she had put off in her life, when she had her baby. She would learn to knit and do a cooking course and start a business and sew.
I nodded and smiled and inside, I laughed so hard, I metaphorically wet myself.
She hadn’t done shit except clean shit from her kids asses for the last five years.
Do stuff when you have the time before time turkey slaps you in the face.