I was recently reading a story about a group of friends that climbed mountains all over the world and had lived through an avalanche or two. That’ll never happen to me. I don’t climb mountains. Crumb, I have a hard time climbing my little kitchen stool to get to the top shelf where I have hidden the last tin of Christmas cookies!
I used to keep score at bowling tournaments—it was really fun—and I saw a man bowl a perfect game of 300. That’ll never happen to me. Although I did once or twice bowl in the 200 range. It was the high end of the 100’s actually, but really close to two hundred. The closest I will ever come to being a bowling pro is that I know a woman whose husband is a pro bowler and I think that is pretty cool.
There was a news item on my computer recently that reported some actress/singer just put her home on the market for 150 million dollars. That’ll certainly never happen to me. I did however, just the other day, build a little cardboard home for a momma cat and her two new kittens. She checked out each corner and then began to purr contentedly. I don’t think she would trade it for a 150 million dollar mansion with ten bedrooms and twenty full bathrooms.
Sometimes those, “that’ll never happen to me” things in life seem to be bigger and more important than the “that happened to me once” events. But are they really? For instance…
One wonderful summer day in when I was a teenager living in Eastern Nevada, a girl friend and I took a ride up into the mountains, hiked a little way and had a little lunch. As we sat in a grove of shimmering leafy Aspen trees looking at the carvings on the trees, from years of Basque sheep herders that had used that spot before us, along came one of those herders—out of nowhere. He couldn’t speak English and we were not fluent in Peruvian. But on the side of that mountain we figured out that he had lost his sheep and wanted to know if we had seen them! It wasn’t an avalanche event, but it was as close to climbing a mountain that I will ever come to. Yes, that happened to me.
One Christmas I had the notion to gather up a bunch of friends and we went caroling. It was snowing as we slid up and down the streets popping off one season’s greeting after another. We found ourselves in a restaurant where some company was having a Christmas party and the employees were having a rousing good time. They invited us in and after our loud and oh so merry rendition of We Wish You a Merry Christmas they passed a hat and gave us nice tip. Yes that happened to me once. Maybe one of us giggling girls could have become that singer who had a house for sale for 150 million bucks! Not…
However—yes there is an however, but I suspect you figured that. However, there are a few things we all do that we feel are unique to ourselves. Like I pick up little rocks, pebbles really, about the size of a pea just because they are pretty and I know that one day I will pick up one that is a gold nugget. Ya, that’ll happen to me! I don’t pick up big rocks or bring rocks of any size home for a rock garden/collection. My mother did that and I know a few rockers that still do, and that adds to their uniqueness. Okay so that’s not climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro, but is does have to do with rocks and the like.
The achievement curve is as wide or narrow as you make it. Just because you don’t have a voice that would excite the judges on “The Voice” for goodness sakes don’t let that deter you from singing in the rain as loud as you want to. Ya, that’ll happen to me every once in a while.
Not to wax too philosophically, it might take a while but I really believe that if you look long enough, work within your own settings not those of someone else, take the hard path and make it yours, that you will, at some point in your life finally say, “Ya! That’ll happen to me.” It did for me–took some time, but now I happily write to make people smile. Whew. Uh, you did smile didn’t you?
Trina lives in Eureka, Nevada. Her book ITY BITS can be found on Kindle. Share with her at email@example.com