Undefinable. Part One.

The biggest reason that my postings on this blog have slowed down is because, more and more, it is difficult for me to have some central theme to my musings.

'Why'  you may ask 'Do you need a central theme?  Why don't you just write about what is going on at any point in time?'

And I guess that that is the million dollar question.  As I get older - and I had my 47th birthday last week - I observe the behaviour of other mature members of my human tribe.  Their lives, their careers, and their blogs, seem to revolve around one, or for the most two, subjects.  If X is a designer she writes about design.  If Y is a traveler, she writes about travel.  If Z is a parent, he writes about parenting.  Some of my friends are more multifaceted than others and, in that case, they tend to have separate blogs for each subject.  And separate compartments in their lives for their various interests - family life, career and spirituality all have the place and time.

I have NEVER been deeply interested in just one thing - or in simply writing about one thing in this space.  During high school I was passionate about a bunch of subjects, activities, sports and people - all at the same time.  I believed in the idea of AND.  In my high school matriculating exams I took the language path AND the science path AND the math path (sneaked that last one in after hours since the school would not allow such variety).  I was an avid and accomplished sportswoman AND an academic teenager AND deeply involved in extra-curricular and leadership activities.

In school days there were awards for excelling at several things, for being a generalist - in my secret teenage thoughts I was aiming to be a 'Renaissance' woman.  But it's now 30 years later, the Renaissance is long gone and specialization is king.  In addition to which, as I've gotten older,  I have found it increasingly difficult to excel at several things at the same time.  The tasks are more complex, the goals are set higher.  Parenting is not the same as playing hockey.  Planting food sustainably is much more difficult than learning to be fluent in French.  And so the word 'mediocrity' pays an occasional visit as a concept which I must look at, think about and deal with.

Yet even though I understand that without specialization it is difficult to become an expert in one particular area, at no point do I think - well, you can't keep being involved and interested in such contradictory activities.  I LOVE parenting in a deep and involved way and still homeschool my children and  I LOVE the world of planting, farming, food production and  I LOVE the United States and Trinidad and Tobago and  I LOVE, absolutely LOVE being a fulltime traveler and  I LOVE architecture and I LOVE participating in unraveling human behaviour and human emotions.  I LOVE... I LOVE.... I LOVE.......

A gypsy farmer?  Ha Ha.  Not possible.  A traveling counselor?  Laughable.  Unable to answer a simple question such as 'Where do you live?'?  Get back to earth woman.  These are not things that anyone discourages me from doing - most people have given up on that.  But I look around and see that life can become rather complex if the balls you are juggling are of different sizes.

But despite the difficulty in mastering a range of life skills I no longer truly consider getting more specialized.   Over the years I have, bit by bit, come to realize that this is part of who I am.  It's not forced and it's not a pathology - a sign of delayed maturity or something of that sort.  In Ayurveda it relates to the high Vata contribution in my makeup.  In Human Design it is part of my being a Projector.  In Astrology it's just the way that Sagittarians often are.  And even though I don't use any of these organizing models as guiding principles, they underline the idea of self-acceptance.  The amazingness of human diversity.  The joy that can be found in contrast.

I never sat, as a child, and built Legos or played with dolls for hours.  I loved daydreaming, reading, looking at the broadness of the universe.  I sat day after day in the top branches of the Pommerac tree with a pile of books, pondering the mysteries of life and fantasizing about being involved in so many of the adventures that were on the page, of learning about everything, about being the kind of witch who delved into all kinds of mysteries, not the specialized Superheroine with one particular skill.

I love the entirety of life.  And whenever I try to deny that, to create black and white, firm edges and lines, my inspiration dries up.  And I find myself seated, disconnected from the larger universe, and living the zombie life.

So bring it on universe!  I'm ready and waiting.