Tuesday, March 29, 2022

IF I WEREN’T WRITING...

 

Or—

What Would I Do Instead?

Our neighborhood trusted gas station/car repair shop has had the same sole owner for fifty years. I wasn’t here to verify this, but so I’ve been told. For at least twenty, we’ve brought all our cars to him and he has always been scrupulously honest. His loyal assistant has been there for as long as I remember. Bridgeway Service is venerated and loved by all who had experienced the decent way they conduct their business.

 

A few years ago, I got into a conversation with the owner, who told me he would love to retire. What he really wanted to do was experiment making homemade barbecue sauce and invite his neighbors to sample his ever-evolving creations on that front.

 

This stayed with me, and every time I drive in to get gas or inflate my tires, I think of a dream delayed when I see Steve, the owner, still at it.




At this stage of my life, I have the privilege to be able to dedicate myself to doing what I most want to. I write fictional stories for young readers almost every weekday. I try to imagine what I would do if writing fiction became impossible. A few notions float by on wispy clouds~~~~~

Run a cat rescue

      Write movie reviews

                  Make biscotti from a family recipe I improved

 

Those misty billows evaporate as quickly as they appear. I could do any of the above, but not every day or every week. This cements my feeling of gratitude. I’m lucky to be where I am.

 

It also seems unfair, as Steve from Bridgeway has worked harder all his life, and has earned his right to make barbecue sauce full time. Life, really, isn’t fair.

 

Do you have any dreams delayed you would be open to sharing? I wish you the vision to see clearly the way to fulfilling those.


6 comments:

  1. What w wonderful experience. My answer is that I would be writing. But I would also like to learn how to sing, dance and draw.

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  2. In case utopias casted over the past are accepted, I would become Rafa Nadal. If not, I will continue to coach and mentor young pianists, help them find their voice, their path.

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  3. Like you, I am immensely grateful that I get to do what I want to do--create fiber art in my fabulous studio by the ocean. Because I did not follow the path my mother wanted for me, I did not postpone what I preferred to do--adventure around the world, work at what interested me rather than what merely paid the bills. My father didn't have that luxury and worked all his life to support the family rather than fulfill any dreams he might have had, dreams he never shared with me, except that he had wanted a complete education, not just the few years before WW I broke out and ended any possibility of continuing. Too bad, too sad, because he was so smart.

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  4. Most people I know have deferred dreams. I am grateful to be living my dream--reading, writing, praying, singing, cooking, studying, just being.

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  5. It's not that I haven't gotten to do them, but only that I can't do them now because of the pandemic and I've missed them--my volunteer activities (at the day care, at the nursing home, at the church office, making wooden toys for needy kids, meals for the homeless,...)

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  6. I might have been happy supplementing my freelance writing with being a speech therapist and went back to university for post graduate studies. But I had trouble with the science prerequisites, especially statistics, and dropped out.

    I thought about going into law because there's lots of writing and reading. Even if I had become a lawyer, I would've written novels on the side, like Scott Turow.

    But neither of those careers were deferred dreams.

    ReplyDelete

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