It’s not easy for me to refrain from doing the things I want to do. I think I’m a little bit challenged when it comes to impulse control. I’m like that bratty Veruca Salt from Charlie and the Chocolate factory. “I want a golden goose, Daddy. I want it NOW!”
This impulse applies to shopping (books, anyone?), eating, and reading. It does not, unfortunately, apply to housework, exercise, or bill paying. My 47 for 47 challenge includes items designed to help me change some of my less productive habits.
Lately, I want to post practically every thought that enters my head, but I know that’s a bad idea, particularly when I’m tired and my eyelids start to close every time I try to proofread. I envision the internet equivalent of a drunk dialing situation, where I wake up in the morning to face the aftermath of a late night poor decision. Of course I’m only going by what I’ve heard, but I can imagine that would be a little awkward. I would hate to log in and find sentences unfinished, misspellings galore, and a total lack of linguistic and stylistic control. It would be worse than falling asleep on the airplane only to awake with a drool puddle on your shirt and people pointing at you.
For that reason, I won’t post my real article for now. I will leave you in suspense, and hope you’ll tune in for the next installment of my life.
Now how is that for a big question? I’ve decided to give Dean Bocari’s daily passion prompts a go. I know I won’t do them every day, but they will be posted for the next 39 days, so the challenge is there. I may be a bit challenge happy at the moment.
Back to the question at hand. What would I do if I knew I could not fail? How to even go about conceiving of such a situation? My immediate thoughts go to my son and raising him to be the kind of man that he ought to be. What could I do to help ensure his future success? Maybe I could take a small investment and parlay it into a small fortune of the type that might pay for a top notch education? If I couldn’t fail, I might as well do my “investing” in Vegas and have a whale of a time doing it, too. But financial security is no guarantee of success.
Having the money for an upper echelon education doesn’t prepare one for its rigors. Money can’t teach a strong work ethic, tenacity, creativity, risk taking, and people skills. In fact, in my experience, it’s those strengths that allow people to acquire financial gains. Let’s face it, money is the effect, not the cause of strong character traits. So while I would love to amass a small fortune, just to take the edge off a little, it isn’t my goal in and of itself.
Instead of a focus on pure financial gain, I would want my “can’t fail” risk to involve personal growth that would serve as an example to said son, while having the delightful benefit of providing the aforementioned nest egg. So what it comes down to is this, if I knew I couldn’t fail I would take a year off from my current career and focus on living a creative life. I would write and sew and paint. I would hike and swim and travel. I would create poetry, take photos, and visit theaters near and far. I would get healthy once and for all, experimenting with new recipes, hiking new trails, and learning to use my body in new ways. Maybe I would dance or box or do yoga. Perhaps I would try Zumba or white water rafting. During that year I would record my experiences and my thoughts on them. Then I would publish that memoir. Naturally Oprah would love it, and it would become an instant best seller.
Oh I know, the world can live without my self-absorbed prattling, but there are moments, flashes really, when I feel like I have something important to say. Sometimes I’m able to get it down in the way I imagine, and other times I’m not, but I still like to believe that there is an audience for me. There are others like me fighting the battles I’m fighting, reinventing themselves every day, and challenging themselves to be their best. If I knew I couldn’t fail, I would be honored to walk among them and be their champion.
The next time you’re in a public place — a coffeehouse, a park, a store — observe the people around you. Pick a person, a couple, or a group, and imagine what their lives might be like.
This is today’s daily prompt, and it was a perfect fit for me, as I found myself playing this little game just this morning. Today was unusual because I was able to have breakfast at Starbucks with my son. We had enough time to calmly sit down and have a conversation over our outrageously priced meal. Aside from the guilt involved and the nearly broken toes from his enormous feet stepping on them, it was very pleasant.
This was a new location for us, and we had fun taking in the scene. The woman in the orange dress was clearly on her way to work. She was wearing heels and make up and her hair was done. She was on a mission to get in and out of there as quickly as possible. I imagined that her entire life was similar to that snapshot. She seemed no nonsense and on the move. The thing that got me though, was that her stride and overall appearance seemed very loose. It was as though her skeletal structure was made of noodles. She sort of oozed. She didn’t seem unfit or overweight, just kind of wobbly. It was like her joints needed a bit of tightening up. I wondered if she was always in a hurry, and I wondered if she had someone to go home to at night.
I also wondered about the three gentlemen. First there was one. He was sipping coffee and reading a newspaper. A real one, made from actual paper. After a while, the second gentleman joined him. They greeted each other warmly and began to chat. A few minutes later, the third gentleman arrived. He pulled up a chair and again greetings were exchanged. I imagined these gentlemen had once worked as businessmen or accountants or sales reps or insurance agents. I imagined that they put kids though college, bought their wives necklaces for Christmas, and took trips every summer. I imagined that they once hosted barbecues in their neatly maintained backyards, and enjoyed the occasional round of golf. Sometimes their wives would drag them to plays or antique stores, but usually the weekends were free for sports and mowing the lawn.
The three gentlemen looked happy to see each other. They were obviously old companions. I wondered if any of them still had their wives. Were they divorced? Widowed? Did these gentlemen live alone? I think they did. Did they still own those houses with the backyard barbecues? Or had they downsized? Maybe they lived in condos where someone else would take care of the landscaping. Maybe they would have loved to go to a play or poke around in an antique store. How well did they know each other, anyway? Did they know each other’s kids?
They reminded me how important it is to have connections in my life. I wanted to share this little gem of wisdom with my fifteen year old, but at his age there’s really no need. I just hope that as he grows up, he maintains those connections with others, and spends time to nuture his real life relationships with flesh and blood people.
BulgingButtons 