When I was younger I had what you’d call “time restricted focus” (better known as “look squirrel syndrome”). I’d watch the Olympics and decide I was going to be a track star, or a gymnast. So Id commit hard core to running, training, eating well, tumbling class and stretching. For 3 solid weeks. Then I was going to be a Psychologist like Bob Hartley on the Bob Newhart Show so I majored in Psychology with big plans to open a high rise office in Manhattan. Until Psych Stats came along. Wasn’t so gung ho then. I was going to be a drummer- yep- no shit. I looked into drum lessons, became obsessed with Tommy Lee, watched videos and technique and planned on an all chick band. Until I saw something shinier. Accepting that you are a wanderer, not particularly interested in becoming #1 at anything is hard to admit.
HAPPY AVERAGE WANDERER
Being around some world class climbing this past weekend and some AMAZINGLY talented and skilled rock climbers kind of stirred some emotions in me. I would sit and listen to them discuss how they spend 4 days a week in the climbing gym, do tons of yoga and trek to the mountains every single weekend to perfect, fine tune, and advance their climbing. Jesus, I thought….Im a fucking lazy ass unfocused scatter brain. I don’t know that Ive ever felt 100% passionate about one particular thing and perfecting it in my entire life. Does that mean Im “goal-less”, have no purpose, no end game, no destination? Shit. Im 45. I better figure this shit out.
I even talked to Dude about it on the long hike back to the car after all weekend climbing and camping. I started thinking about my weekends. I’ve been to many high school football games to watch my kid cheer on the sidelines. Ive sat on soccer field bleachers so many times watching Andy play I can’t count. I’ve hiked amazing mountains with my girlfriends. I’ve tried snow shoeing on a Saturday. I went to Punta Cana and Cabo and Vegas and New Orleans and Nashville with friends on weekends. I laid on my couch and watched a marathon of “Cops” on a Saturday. I stood front row at a Zac Brown concert on a Saturday. I took my daughter shopping for a Homecoming dress on several Saturdays. I rode bikes with my son in the mountains one Saturday. I went zip lining on a weekend. I spent a weekend backpacking through Wyoming once on a weekend. I snuck off to a little bar and watched Charlie Robison play and had more vodka than I should’ve on a Saturday.
Ive spent Saturdays and Sundays at car shows, hiking, brunching at The Broadmoor, watching football, at a gay pride parade, at cheer competitions, at Beachbody events, at bars, at beaches, in the mountains, canoeing, paddle boarding, horse back riding, rafting the Grand Canyon, climbing Pikes Peak, at jump world on a trampoline, shopping in a mall, visiting my grandmother, drinking a beer in a cemetery with Dad, playing board games with my kids, sitting in lawn chairs with my Dad, watching an eclipse in a field, riding a shovel behind a horse, at a few crawfish boils, dressed in a tutu eating donuts at a “race” with my girlfriends, petting alpacas, touring Aspen, watching movies and reading in a hammock. And I don’t fucking regret one single bit of it.
I have a list of a bazillion things I still wanna do. So many things. And at the age of 45 I know my gypsy heart enough to know its really really really ok to not be exceptional at ONE thing. To have wanderlust and crave new adventures and new scenery and new. New. New. New. Different. I may be just AVERAGE at all of the things I do….but God Dammit- I do a LOT of things. And THAT is everything.
It has never EVER been about the end game, the goal, the destination…..it has ALWAYS been about the journey…..ALWAYS. And you get one, ONE fucking journey….make the most of it!