I want to run away and join the circus. Well, I did when I was little – swinging around our Hills Hoist washing line, pausing every few rotations for a dramatic sequence on the trampoline, wearing my swimmers and sparkly headband and some stolen smears of mum’s lipstick. I was going to be scouted from over our back fence. I was rehearsing. I was in the centre ring with all eyes on me. These days, that dream has been replaced with running away to another country for a while, with my little family, for some adventure and memory-making. The dream and destinations might be different, but the motivation is the same for 35-year-old me as it was for five-year-old me. Adventure and excitement.
When I’m really feeling like running away, Canada is at the
top of my list. Montreal or one of the
Maritime provinces that are like my other home.
In my head, I think I’d like to learn French (though I got kicked out of
Japanese class in high school because I was so bad, so perhaps the only place I
will speak French is in my imagination!)
The snow, snow mobiling, trying to out-run the summer-time bugs, beautiful autumn colours, pumpkin pie, learning to ski and ice-skate... When I’m feeling poor and a little less dramatic, my picks are Toowoomba
(two ours west and up a mountain) or Tasmania at the southern tip of Australia
– an old stone cottage with fireplaces in the bedroom, summer high temperatures
of just 25 degrees and the chance of snow in winter. Heaven.
In my head.
I think many grown-ups want to pack up and run away as often
as we did as kids, only the destinations are further afield than the
neighbour’s cubby house. And not being
allowed any dessert because you didn’t eat your peas doesn’t feature so much
anymore. We eat it anyway.
I want to run away sometimes because I get bored and don’t’ want
to be boring – I want to be the hit of the nursing home with lots of stories to
tell! I want to run away sometimes because I
want to be able to say, for better for worse, “Yep, I did that!” – either with
a proud grin or a face palm! I want to
run away sometimes because I crave adventure – even though it scares the bejeepers
out of me! I want to run away sometimes because I don’t want to get to my 50s and
60s and THEN decide to do something when money might be more relaxed but
mobility and stuck-in-the-mudness has set in.
And I fear it might for me.
But thankfully my husband shares this dream, too. When we’ve had a bad day at work or things
are just generally ‘grey’, we start talking about moving overseas or building our own hay bail house in Tassie and what it will look like, or talking about
whether or not we’d get a car if we lived in a snowy country (God help us and others on the road!). We Google real estate and job ads. We’ve even got as far as being fingerprinted
at the police station for our security checks.
But that’s as far as we’ve gone.
All talk and gusto and not enough gumption.
I used to be brave. Perhaps I need to do a few small-scale, local brave things to get back up to speed. Now, anyone in Canada need an editor, page designer or IT professional? Anyone? Anyone? *crickets*