I’m a thirty-something, a later-on-down-the-road thirty-something, but a thirty-something nonetheless. OK, so I used to be a thirty-something, now I’m a forty-something AND a liar.
Much like you, I’m a very busy person. I am pulled in a plethora of directions by a multitude of people each and every day that I get out of bed. Which, incidentally, is when it all begins. A single day has a month’s worth of activity packed into it and lasts, seemingly, about 20 minutes. I pass strangers on the road, in the coffee shop, and while I’m about my usual business and occasionally I will see one that seems to be … smiling. How is it possible that they have time for smiling? And what are they smiling about? I’m confused, haunted and tormented by their smiles. But ultimately, I want what they have. It’s some sort of ‘oomph’ that sets them apart from the struggling, the downtrodden and the doomed.
Perhaps I just need to rearrange my furniture to be in line with my “chi”, or maybe its much more, like I should be seeing a new age herbalist that will begin with concocting special ‘smiling’ recipes for me that contain eye of Newt and molecules from the Dea Sea, and then I’ll be wrapped from head to toe with spirit blessed rice parchment that will have been painlessly pieced together by nearly extinct rain forest pixies, who will then squeeze their magic tears into my eye sockets each night before I fall into deep slumber.
I may look into that, I believe meeting a pixie would make me slightly giddy, and I haven’t been giddy since I was a twenty-something. However, I believe the truth behind these smiles is less about fairytale elixirs and more about their resolve. Their spirits are uncrushable. Each day is an adventure and their curious minds leave nothing undiscovered. They are life enthusiasts and their grit for adventure extends far beyond the norm. Their passion and vigor can be very contagious and after a little more than a brief encounter with one you find yourself on their mailing lists for dog sledding in Alaska and mountain hiking on Mt. Kilimanjaro. You know these people.
Maybe we should strive to live our lives with just a flicker or a hint of that ‘oomph’. I, for one, am going to stop scowling at the smiling people and instead remind myself to find the adventure for myself that seems to have found them. Something fun, something extraordinary, something good for my health and spirit, and something that will make strangers scowl at me.
I’m not much of a team player, I have problems with sharing, control and authority… and I lie, so traditional team sports are out. I’m far too buff as it is <cough> for free weights, and I bore easily with mindless repetition.
But… I do know a guy who could set me up for a week in a yurt with a magical chanting goat (I’m on his mailing list) and he claims you just haven’t lived until you’ve sung with a Bovidae.
Look, I’m smiling already.