I’d be unstoppable. Full of verve. Never resting but always awake. Awake and generous with my time. Generous with my good spirits. Smiling despite circumstances to the contrary. Feeling chagrin but never showing it. There would be laughter, always. And patience. And I would be useful. Putting time through its paces and getting work done, real work. The kind that I could sit back and admire for a brief moment before starting something new.
I would be available. With interests. Things I know would make others smile but the lives of others would make me smile too. We would have lunch. There would be little people to read bedtime stories too. In case bedtime stories are becoming extinct – I would be party to their conservation. There would be cubby houses too. And forts. And I would not be distracted. I would be absorbed in the play as much I was absorbed by anything else. And sometimes we would dance for no reason.
And despite being unstoppable, sometimes I would stop. Perhaps to smell flowers, but more likely for cake. If there isn’t time for social cake, well that would be sad and a sure sign that I have grown up too far and need to step back a few paces. Not social cake all the time, but just sometimes, with people who matter.
I would teach. And people would think I was helpful, knowledgeable, wise…but that’s a little too far ahead. I have no plans to be wise until I have at least several hundred grey hairs. I have a sneaking suspicion that wisdom takes even longer to grow, did Confucius tell me that?
I would love my job. I will love my job. But people will know I love it. The way they know I love books, because it is something I cannot hide and sometimes it is infectious. Being an infectious doctor would probably not be a good platform. I will rethink that part.
And I will live. I will see things here and far away – mountains and glades and windy peaks with snow, so much snow. And I will meet people and learn from them and nothing will surprise me, but I will always be amazed.
It turns out, there’s still a little starry-eyed youngster in me yet.
– Old, New or True.
Scribble challenges are quickly turning into my warm up for real posts. This week, have a go at writing for fifteen minutes without looking at the screen/page above. Just write. The topic is blind ambition – I have some big decisions to make in the next few weeks. They are not irreversible, the outcome may even be imperceptible to future me, but they are weighing on my mind just now. I thought it might be cathartic to write without rules and it turns out, it was.
Maybe you have an infinity looping thought that needs similar attention.
If you have just stumbled across a scribble challenge for the first time, you can read more about them here. If you happen to post any of your scribbles, I’d love to hear about it. My comment section is always open, so if you need another space to write freely, you’re welcome to share it.
Image credit: Blind Man’s Buff from Child-Land, Picture Pages for the Little Ones by Oscar Pletsch and M. Rictor, Courtesy of Project Gutenberg.