Time is an odd thing. It flits, it flees, it flies. It scampers ahead on soft, velvety feet and we don’t even notice its passing. Sometimes we have too much of it; often much too little. I worry that I’m never going to experience everything that appeals to me. The places I’d like to visit, the challenges I’d like to set and meet, those accomplishments which mark the route of a life well-lived.
And, I’m completely aware that it is a waste of time to worry, and that I should get out there and make like a sports shoe commercial.
‘Dolce far Niente’ the Italians say. It is sweet to do nothing. This is a mantra I’ve been trying to adopt for the last 13 years. My husband has it down pat. In fact we had it engraved on our wedding rings “ dolce far niente con te, carissimo amico”. I’ve never been one for sitting still however.
I’ve been re-watching a sweet series about a vet (All Creatures Great and Small) and remembering how for most of my growing up years, it was my dream to be a vet. It was only when I ran into the twin walls of advanced physics (I just didn’t understand it) and a refusal to vivisect, that my dream died and I turned to European Literature and Creative writing. It all worked out ok but I found myself wondering the other day if I could still become a vet. Now, in my (ahem) later years. Can I squeeze the courses in between writing books? And why is it that we can only have one or two careers in our lives or at least only a couple that we are truly passionate about? My problem is there are too many things out there that catch my attention and inflame my enthusiasm. What’s that other saying? My eyes are too big for my stomach- that goes for chocolate and experiences.
A good friend of mine went from record store goddess to dot.com manager to farm animal vet, doing her internship among a lot of goats in the inhospitable wilds of Newfoundland. I’ve worked a variety of different jobs from record company exec to landscape gardener to bookstore clerk to marketing researcher for an investment company and around in a big circle, which has taken most of my life, back to writer.
Could I incorporate some of my interest in biology with my love for writing for children? My first heroes were not only the authors I loved (Tolkien, Cooper, Lewis, Lively, Dahl) but also the naturalists (Goodall, Thomas, and above all Attenborough- who I swore at age twelve to marry some day) who wrote so evocatively about their experiences.
I am an optimist. I have decided that I will live to a goodly age with my wits relatively unimpaired and preferably with the use of my writing hand. Maybe there will be time to do (or at least try) everything I’d like to.
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