Epiphanies; who knows how these things happen…
I think that perhaps our brains are constantly looking for connections. So maybe it was just a synthesis of a recently overheard conversation, or some random article or image, or even one of those click-bait headlines (see headline above) that say things like, Five Steps to Finding Your Passion. You’ll Never Believe What Happens Next!
Those articles generally admonish us to harken back to our childhoods and try to recall what brought us joy. “What,” the author writes, “did YOU do for fun?” And then, they tell us, once you remember that, you can tease out the elements of that activity and do it now.
Voila! Passion ignited.
First of all, I hate this whole notion of passion. I’ve written on this before, possibly because I find it particularly piss-offing. It’s like we’re some sort of epic failure at life if we don’t wake up with an overwhelming urge to paint the next Mona Lisa.
Instead, I maintain that life is about being curious, playful, and most of all, to not take ourselves so seriously.
But back to my epiphany…
It happened about a week or so ago. I was in the tub, legs stretched in front of me and grinning at the incredible number of cuts, bruises & bites on my poor old legs. The wounds were new from a recent bike/camping trip from Castlegar to Greenwood.
The scratches and scrapes randomly ran up my legs, right up to the shiny pink scars that already litter my knees, testament to my childhood and innumerable falls off my mustang bike (with angel bars and a sparkly green banana seat!). I would crash off my bike on the gravel of Nottman Road and come home crying. Mom would sit me down on the closed seat of the toilet and, with a Q-tip and iodine, she’d dig out the little rocky bits from my bloody knees.
I was part of a neighbourhood girl bike gang. Holly, Bridget, Carol and I would roll up in the middle of Cherry Street, and touch our front tires together in a perfect X before we headed out on our adventures. These were the days before helmets, when flying down the hill past the Widow Froese’s house was just part of what you did. We were fast and we were fearless. We were girls who had not yet absorbed the societal messaging about being ladies.
As I stared at my bloody legs, I realized something. I don’t have to look and examine my childhood to see what I enjoyed doing. It turns out I never stopped. It’s more than fifty years later and nothing’s changed except that there’s the addition of a whole lot of wrinkles.
Because here’s the thing:
I still belong to a girl bike gang. Every year we have been laughing loud and long on our nine days of cycling. Unfortunately, like everyone in the world, this year was the first time in 32 years that we missed our annual trip (we have every intention of getting back to it when we can safely manage it again).
I was a voracious reader as a kid. Libraries and bookstores were some of my favourite places in the world.
That is even more true today. The only difference is, I don’t have to hide under the covers with a flashlight. I even have a library named after me in the city of Oaxaca.
My mom forced me to take piano lessons and, after a long hiatus, lo and behold, all these years later and I’m in love with practising my piano.
Growing up, we had endless tree forts and playhouses. I even had a homemade flat-bottomed boat for poling around our swamp. I would set off with a leather-sheathed knife on my belt, magnifying glass in hand and binoculars around my neck for my own Trixie Belden adventures. Nothing made me happier than looking for clues in the woods.
And now, just about every day I set off on a trail, eager to see what I might find.
We had a Tarzan rope in our back bush that saw more than one kid scraped and bloody or with a broken arm from not kicking off the far tree at the right time. Who knew that one day I’d become a travel writer and end up swinging from more zip lines than I care to count? Even more ridiculously, I jumped off the equivalent of a 55-story gorge in South Africa…as one does when on a press trip.
Mom used to cut my hair with scissors as I sat on a kitchen chair. Currently, during this pandemic, I am doing the same.
I remember colouring and drawing and loving every moment of creation. I am still doing that. In fact, today is the start of our Art Walk on our street and my pieces are up and ready.
So that’s what I realized as I stared at my wrinkly old legs in the tub. It turns out the most important key to a good life is to never grow up.
As for the other four?
Ignore social pressures to conform to what life is ‘supposed’ to look like. Most especially, ignore the whole thing about acting like a lady. I can assure you, ladies don’t have fun. What a load of crap that was. Be strong. Kick butt.
Also, play. Play hard.
Be curious. Read widely and observe everything, whether it’s a window display or a diagram of the human body. You never know how your mind might connect disparate items in fun new ways.
Make friends. More importantly, be a friend. Have a gang. The right girl gang is a godsend.
There are probably more, but hey, I only promised five and I have an Art Walk to attend to.
So dear readers, I’m sending virtual hugs to you all since that’s all we’re allowed to do these days.
Be well. Take care. And tell me one thing, are you still doing the things you loved from when you were a kid?
On the farm I used to steal eggs from under the chickens and add them to mud pies to make them creamy and stick together in different shapes. I’d let them sit in the sun to bake.
I’m still playing in the mud. For the past 45 years I’ve been making different shapes out of clay. I started with stoneware and now I’m fascinated with creamy porcelain.
I also love working in dirt. This year I have a bountiful crop of kale, zucchini, beets, cukes, cabbages, broccoli and tomatoes. When I go for a walk, I share the excess with neighbours, who are always thrilled with free fresh veggies.
Staying at home due to the pandemic hasn’t got me down at all!
Martha. That is such a great story of how those egg & mud pies were your early training in stoneware and porcelain.
Your neighbours are very lucky to have such generous veggie bouquets.
Hi Colleen
We have never formerly met but my husband David and I curl with Kevin in the winter months and earlier this week we ended up golfing together. When I am not involved in these activities I am exploring our beautiful mountain surroundings or indulging in my passion of creating unique watercolour greeting cards.
I really enjoyed reading of your adventures and reminiscing of your childhood. At this stage of our lives we often find ourselves reflecting on our past, remembering the fun times with family and friends.
Dave and I love to travel and explore new places making memories. Back in 2008 in preparation of a first trip to Scotland, I started to trace my family roots – my paternal Grandfather was born on the Isle of Bute. Unfortunately my parents were both deceased as were their siblings, so there was no one to ask questions of. Over the last twelve years I have added to my family, finding long lost relatives, making new connections and gaining lasting friendships.
I look forward to meeting you, viewing your art and reading of your adventures.
Cheers Marg Scott
Hi Marg. Kevin mentioned he’d golfed with you and David the other day and now here you are.
It sounds like all of us living here love exploring our mountains. I know that for us, the mountains were certainly a large part of the reason for moving here.
I’m sure we’ll meet one day and when we do, I’d like to see your watercolours.
I love that you have added to your family through your research. My friend Sharon (who commented on this post earlier) is an incredible researcher too. She has compiled an incredible family tree as she followed her roots back in Ireland. Doing some ancestor research is on my list but I haven’t done anything about it…yet.
Not as much as I’d like to. The last couple of years have not seen my best self. Through Covid I’ve been focused on healing my heart and finding more joy. I’m getting there.
Hey Miz Mimsy. I’m glad you’re finding way back. Taking the time to heal and find what’s been lost is such important work. Take care.
Playing football at the corner park – no
Hiking and biking – yes
Watching Saturday afternoon cowboy shows on tv – no
Cheering for the Edmonton Eskimos – status unknown
Studying history – yes
Organizing things – yes
Hanging with friends – as best I can
Enjoying life – without question.
Wait a minute Jim! No more Saturday afternoon cowboy shows?!? It sounds like you kept all the best things from your childhood. How wonderful is that?
I grew up in Kimberley on 8th Ave in town site. Across the street we had no housing just beautiful woods. I lived out there, we would play explorers, and hike and find wonderful turtles, frogs…love the outdoors, I have moved back here 6 years ago, and still exploring and enjoying the outdoors.
Hey Cindy, I can’t imagine how different Kimberley must look from your childhood days on 8th Avenue. There is still so much to explore in the incredible nature that surrounds us. I loved playing explorers too. There’s so many things to see when you get right down and focused 🙂
I was not a creative one. When I was six years old I declared to my family that I wanted to be a farmer. Today I still love animals and had cats when possible. We used to spend our holidays walking in the beautiful French Alps, I remember the meadows full of flowers, the sound of the cow bells, the smell of cut grass. I still like walking in beautiful Wales and Shropshire. I had a collection of “les livres d’Or” which were small stories for children, also my parents’ house were full of books, so I learned the love of reading, which I still enjoy.
Catherine. I love that you made a declaration to be a farmer and are still connected to animals and the land. We have meadows of flowers here too and sometimes the beauty is overwhelming. I remember the Golden Books. I wonder if they were the same as yours…And yes, to reading. It is such a gift.
More than ever.
Playing in dirt,
Playing with paint,
Exploring the woods.
Amen to dirt Darla. I feel better when there’s actually some dirt to scrub off of my body. Playing in dirt and paint and hanging out with trees is pretty much my life. So much of what is best in life amounts to simply being outside.
Things I loved doing as a child: Being curious. Reading. Writing.Making notes. Checking things out (aka “research”). Taking care of others. Laughing.
Ah Sharon. I can attest to the laughter. I love laughing with you and you definitely take care of so many with your amazing cooking and baking. Surprise surprise that you loved doing research as a child. Who would’ve guessed???
Reading : always a book or two on the go.
Looking at the clouds. I love watching thunderheads form.
Oh Peggy. I must have commented on the clouds about four different times this afternoon alone. I love looking at clouds too. They’re just so extravagant and dramatic.
I LOVE this. And yes indeed, the things I loved as a kid are the things that have engaged my heart and mind my entire life. Playing the piano, reading and writing stories, caring for other living things (my family and my pets.)
Keeping those childhood passions alive are key to feeling happy and satisfied your whole life long.
Hey Becca, I guess if we start out as avid readers, it never really stops. In fact, it just becomes more and more a part of life. I can’t imagine not having a book in progress.
I love thinking about these childhood threads that run through our lives. You are so right that keeping those passions alive is how to feel satisfied with our lives. I feel so grateful to have had the opportunity to keep it all going. I really liked how you framed your one answer about ‘caring for other living things’. That’s made me think. I want to add that to my answer too. It’s important. Thank you for that.
I am definitely NOT still playing with Barbie Dolls. But I AM having epiphanies everyday, in fact the word itself is one of my favorites that I know I over use.
In answer to your question, something that I am still doing that I did as a child, is make people laugh. My heart actually grows in size if I can make others, anyone laugh. It fills me with such joy that I can hardly stand it. Perhaps it is partly because I was the youngest in my family, or that both my parents laughed a lot or maybe it’s because my dad was really funny and had the best stories. Either way, if I can make someone laugh daily then MY day is complete.
As far back as I can remember I have tried to make people laugh.
-Karen
PS I never had a bike gang as a kid but I have one now,. 😉
Hey Karen. I can attest to your ability to make me laugh. And I’m so glad you’re in my bike gang. I think we’ve had a few laughs in that group eh?