I recently reviewed my ‘adventure’ bucket list and realised to have any hope of doing half of the things on my list, I best get a bloody move on. This is quite a sobering thought and one that can be a little traumatic, especially when it comes with the realisation that I may never actually marry Matt Damon, WHAT???
Note: I am not sure if it is Matt Damon the actor or Jason Bourne the assassin I am hooked on? Worryingly I think it may be assassin, but that’s a reflection for another time I think.
Now, as you may have detected with the Matt Damon thing, there is some conflict between my realistic limitations (based on boring immediate reality) and my no limitations (anything is possible if you truly believe it) way of thinking. On occasion, in my mind I am a young, rich, athletic, martial artist/gymnast who would be an exceptional spy and who has unlimited amounts of financial resources (and passports with my fake identities of course) This makes for a very interesting bucket list indeed, especially when I am a 44 year old out of shape Mum with not much money who’s only fake identities are the multiple brave faces I put on to the few remaining people in my life. Oh, and did I mention since I had children I became scared of everything?
When I look at my amazingly adventurous list with my reality goggles on, things seem so less possible. I don’t enjoy the process one little bit, so I keep those goggles in my self pity chest along with my Leonard Cohen music and some rubbish memories I do not care to look at. I know what you are thinking about locking away bad memories and suppressing emotions. Well, that’s just the way it is for now and the way it will be until such time that it is not! *crosses arms and stamps foot childishly* I can simply reassure you that this chest BURSTS open from time to time and air definitely does circulate in it! *run and hide*
So, I find myself at a crossroads. I am reluctantly growing up a bit now and realising that Matt Damon and espionage are not the only exciting things in the world. This is a sad but necessary truth I need to face if I am to blossom on my adventure journey. I have experienced Bliss in the simplest of things, such as snuggles with my beautiful children and long walks in fields on rainy days. Fleeting moments of calm clarity of mind and joy in the simple things in life. I know true happiness is in love and compassion and I need not look any further than where I am for it. ❤️
I took my list and reflected for some time what it was I felt I needed to do to satiate my cravings for adventure. At times, I feel the former me who was young, brave, adventurous, people loving, fun loving, spontaneous, backpacking, lone travelling life and soul of the party has gone forever. One day recently during the children’s school holidays, I said to my two young daughters, “we are going out for the day and may stay the night”. We drove to a beautiful place in Wales (Betws Y Coed) found the absolutely last room available in the place, shared a bed and we did not come back for 3 days. We walked, explored, skimmed stones, paddled our feet in cold streams, climbed rocks and did not even consider electronic gadget for days. We even played one of our favourite games, secret agents, whilst walking through the woods (what are you teaching your daughters you crazy spy wannabe? I hear you say) I had to buy a few emergency bits of clothes and toiletries and be creative with others. It was like a mini awakening for me and a precious time for myself and girls. For me this was the bridge between reality goggles and Matt Damon. *Phew, what a relief!*
One of the things I bought while we were on our mini Welsh adventure was a little back pack and OMG, did I feel free getting rid of the bloody hand bag. This is definitely for another post.
Where are we now then? I do tend to waffle and go around the houses a bit so bare with me, I am getting to the point I promise.
When I came back with my new found sense of freedom I mentioned to my husband I was thinking of buying a tent. This was met with a common lack of enthusiasm. I gave it a lot of consideration and thought, WHAT AM I DOING? SPIES DON’T LIVE IN TENTS!! …………. Sorry, no I am not a spy, I am not a spy!! Let’s try again, WHAT AM I DOING? Even when I was travelling around Mexico, camping in the warm weather and was not scared of anything, I hated building and sleeping in a tent! NO, A TENT WAS NOT THE ANSWER! I mentioned to my husband, I am thinking of getting a caravan. This was met with much greater conviction of, why this was a terrible idea with the words “I don’t think so” in his response. It was all a bit of a blur from that point on until a day or so later when I became the proud owner of my very first micro caravan (Silverline Nova Princess) that is small enough for my little car to tow and barely big enough to fit myself and my tiny girls. Yay! 😃
See, there was a point even if I went all around the caravan park to get to it.
Now, my relatively unrealistic bucket list just became slightly more realistic! All of those hippie festivals I have been looking at for years are now just a tow bar away. And what spy worth their weight in gold can not arrange a tow bar to be fitted to her little car? NO, SORRY, I AM NOT A SPY, I AM NOT A SPY, lol. 😭
Love Gilli Bloom. X 🌸