I admire those people who have goals, whose lives have been mapped and planned and move along a somewhat specific track. Really, I do. I’m just not one of them.
Most of my actions in life, both major and minor, seem to have begun with the words “I wonder ______”. I wonder what this would feel like, I wonder what that does, I wonder where that path/road goes, I wonder what that would taste like, I wonder if I can run my own business, I wonder if I’d be a good teacher, I wonder what hoops I’d have to jump through to move to Australia. Some are easy to satisfy, some take a bit of planning, and some just end up on the shelf because my organic way of moving through life has left me without certain pieces of paper that society says I should have.
Shrug. I don’t regret anything. I’m quite happy with where curiosity has brought me (and a little perturbed at how we seem to be conditioning it out of kids, but that’s a post for another time I think).
For example, yesterday I walked down a new street to get back to the school from my lunch date. A dirt path branched off from the paved sidewalk. I wonder where that goes, I thought.
Where it went was down into the ravine where I spent the rest of my spare in the gold of the late afternoon sun exploring along the creek accompanied by the crunch of the leaves under my feet and the gurgle of the water over the rocks.
I ended up the day a bit more behind in my marking and paperwork because I let my curiousity distract me from my plan. I’m ok with that. Paperwork can wait for a rainy day.