My damn kids touch everything. EVERYTHING. They have a real an honest desire to attract and spread germs to as many things as possible. If it is in arms reach, they will find a way to get their hands on it. This can be frustrating. I’m not the only parent in the world who feels like pinching the heads off of my kids shoulders when they feel the need to touch and hold everything that is even remotely shiny.
I will tell you this, though. I wouldn’t change it. Not only would I not change it, I wish I was more like it.
Almost every single thing that comes within the eyesight of a child is viewed with opportunity. Almost all items, no matter how mundane they might appear to the adult eye, are viewed as an opportunity for fun and imagination. They are curious about everything. They have not yet determined that “things” must work this way, or that way. They have not yet fallen under the delusion that certain objects perform certain tasks, because that is what they are “supposed” to do. Children are not cursed by the idea of how “things are supposed to be”. They are smarter than this.
I am not sure exactly when I feel under the misconception that I am expected to conform to any societal mold…but I did. That is not to say that I conformed, but I knew that there was a mold- an expectation of how things are supposed to be.
Fortunately, because of my children, I can be reminded of how I would like to view the world. I want to remain easily amused, amazed at my surroundings, and in constant awe of the things that we are capable of creating.
Children make an egg-slicer into an asteroid and a measuring cup into a space craft. They get excited at the littlest thing, because their imagination is easily fired. You can almost see the sparks flying. I want that spark. I want to make that fire. Everyday, I carry flint.
I enjoy carrying flint. I like to scrape it against as many things as I can. I want to see what sparks, what catches fire, what fizzles, burns, and blazes. It keeps things interesting, so long as I find interest in things. If I have flint, I have the possibility of fire, and most certainly a spark. It keeps me on my toes and gives me reason to be excited.
I try to pause as often as I can throughout the day. I often ask myself,
“What could make my life more exciting, right now?”
There is always something. There is always a rabbit hole to tunnel. There is always flint to strike. To tell yourself that “Things are just the way that they are”, or to believe that you are forced to continue to maintain a certain direction because of past behavior or circumstance is a false narrative that people like me tell ourselves to avoid putting in effort and going through the discomfort of change.
If what you are striking ain’t sparking, maybe you need a new environment. And, if you’re not carrying flint, then maybe you need a new outlook. There are way too many cool things out there that deserve a second look. There are too many opportunities to try new things to sell me on the idea of boredom.
You can get a mohawk on every corner, pull a fire alarm in most every building, learn to play chess on any computer, fly a kite with a fishing pole, get a tattoo when you’re sixty, join a gym, ride a bike, start a business, join a club, get some glue and popsicle sticks, make a video, start to write, shoot a gun, write a Congressman, go to wrestling, join a church, paint your toenails, serve at a shelter, learn a sport, build a puzzle, shave your head, or ring the doorbell and run. Learn to knit, learn to bike, learn to sew, learn to ride a motorcycle, make a prank call, make a love note, learn to type, or speak a new language. Learn to fight, take karate, join a book club or the choir. Visit Egypt, take a boat ride, learn to fish and drive a boat. Thumb wrestle, paper-rock-scissors, learn to cook, or read a book. Write a book, fake an accent, write a novel, write a mystery, or romance, and start today. Learn photography, play piano, start recording, just press the button. Take up running, practice swimming, ride a horse, or get a dog. Get a bb gun and shoot your neighbor, you won’t get caught…I never did. Get some fireworks, take up tennis, get a goldfish, a bird, but prolly not a cat. Go to school, practice knitting, play Sudoko, drink some Scotch. Dress like Elvis, sing karaoke, go ride go-carts or learn to dance.
Strike your flint and learn from the children. There is a ton of excitement out there to be had.
Our time is limited. Their are many ways to die. A slow death with the primary symptom of apathy is probably the saddest way to go.
Do something different. Find adventure. And have some fun.
Peace, Love, and all things Beef related,
Wilson, my neighbor Donna just found a small copperhead on the floor in front of her fire place on the floor. She called me. I told her you would handled it. You carry flint. Could you come right now? ?!? Mom
HAHA! Yes maam. I’ll bring my flint and 5gallon jug of gasoline. But, then I’m leaving…I’m not getting anywhere close to that thing.
Wilson, She is a Whitehaven girl and about my age. She handled it with a Tupper ware bowl and a piece of paper, a flip and a lid. We pioneer women don’t always need flint but I love the article. I know how you feel about snakes and your relief when I handled my home invader BEFORE calling you. I’ sure you pooted with relief. (ANOTHER funny one.)