A Daring Adventure

I've been asked to let a budding young writer shadow me for career day. At first I thought, no way. We just buried the patriarch of our family. Then I thought about who I was at 14. I started thinking about what the shadow and I would talk about. What are the most important lessons for a writer to learn? I began thinking along the lines of how I could answer that. Before emailing the mother that I had agreed to career day, my mind had already accepted. Although nearly a month away, I'm excited to see what develops.

I've long been a believer in encouraging others to dream big dreams, reach for the stars and at least dare to overshoot their daily routine. I believe life is either a daring adventure or nothing.

Years ago, a young friend called me with an opportunity to travel and work abroad.
"Go!" I said. "Before the responsibility sets in."
Maybe it was my own desire for freedom that caused me to give that response. I was already tethered to a house and spouse with a baby on the way. A life in Europe sounded exotic.

He left and lived there two years, give or take. I don't know if they were the best years of his life, but he's glad he went, aren't you Savage Wit? He witnessed the fall of the Berlin Wall. His time in Europe changed his perspective. I enjoyed the photos, postcards, coffee and chocolates that occasionally turned up in my mail box.

There is nothing as intoxicating as living on the meridian of possibility the cutting edge of life, daring to dream. It keeps life interesting, sparking us alive. Maybe that's why people take vacations.

The older I get, the more things tend to stay the same. The more predictable they become, the more I want to stay home. But staying home is only good in small quanitities. Eventually, my brain begins to atrophe.
Then I find myself hankering for an aberration of almost any kind.

Jack Bunny might have it right. He works to live and gleans essence from people watching and bits of dialog from his part-time window of "the world." He gets out, keeps his wit sharpe and his eyes on the look out for something interesting. He's out shoveling snow at 69 and still living to tell about it.

I must remember to tell my 14 year old shadow about risk, taking a dare and above all, twisting the life out of every opportunity. Live your life as though you're in the middle of living a great story. So even if this mentoring gig doesn't go well next month, I'll tell her and myself, "It'll be a great story to tell."