I am compelled once again to write this post about being curious. Curiosity is one of those under appreciated qualities in us humans. Being curious is something that comes naturally to me; I like to follow it, like a choose your own adventure story, and I am always pleasantly surprised where it can take me.

Being curious is such a great quality, so important and so valuable. My urge to write is insistent, like an annoying telemarketer calling at dinner time, like a bout of runny tummy after a big night out in a foreign country( Phuket I remember you too well), like a hungry, whiney baby (no don’t have one, but sure do hear them); insistent, insistent, insistent. So insistent I had to pull the car over, off a main highway (yes I really am that mad), to write this down. The urge was strong, the pull like a hook, like a fish hook (really catchy; like velcro, or stubborn blu-tack, sticky, or like highly annoying sticky sticky gum on the bottom of your shoe), I simply had to capture that idea, grab it by the tail before it ran away from me. As ideas so often can. I have learnt to listen to their demands, and simply stop what ever it is I am doing, deemed less important, and write it down. Yes. I am learning. And I am doing. I am just going for it. All the way. Don’t hold back. Boom.

Curiosity can take you places. Places you could never dream of. It starts with a spark of an idea. Follow it, sniff it out, see where it leads. I feel like lately curiosity is closely linked with serendipity. I start talking to a stranger, they confirm an idea, suggest a new one, and boom I am headed in a new direction. Call it distraction, call it curiosity, call it whatever, but it certainly makes life more interesting.

Some days we are more curious than other days. Some days we just don’t give a stuff. Right now after starting this article with so much mojo I literally had to pull the car over to write stuff down streaming through my over active mind. Now, right at this minute I am having a somewhat lacklustre morning. My drive for curiosity has sizzled out and become apathy. Apathetic appalling sleepy nothingness. The kind of day you just want to mull around and go from one slightly more interesting activity to the next. Like reading a book, making a coffee, pot of tea, a spot of gardening, a flick of Facebook, a whatever the hell takes my fancy kind of day. Ahh, holidays, aren’t they grand. And then I felt like writing all this down, and I forgot about brewing my tea. That kind of day.

I am having a weird morning because last night in my dream I was literally donked (new word of the day, I like it!) on the head. Wiped out. Smacked hard by some hard object, I remember in my dream feeling the pain and thinking ‘ouch’!! Now this morning I am acting like I have literally been knocked on the head, go figure right? How real are these dreams sometimes? Mine feel very real most nights. Fortunately on most occasions as I fend off crocodiles and sharks and sea snakes, they are not real. I seem to be subconsciously facing fears. Beauty.

So here is a weird curious story. This morning I messaged a friend about an idea to travel to Isle of Skye, which looks amazing, from a picture a friend had posted online recently. I think it was the fairy pools that looked very cool to me!? Anyhow, minutes later, a young man with a ladder, came through my front courtyard asking politely if he could access the roof. Sure. No problems! As I engaged him in conversation, surprise surprise, chatty Cathy was getting her word quota up for the morning; this young man tells me his heritage is from Scotland! Coincidence! I then went on to tell him my future travel plans blah blah; he was envious and complained he had no money as he had just bought a new house. I was in turn proud of him for accomplishing such a big financial goal at such a young age; he looked about 13 (he was a certified plumber so he probably was 24 realistically, but you get it, baby face, young, wet behind the ears, not that wet, the boy was a home owner, well… mortgage owner anyhow). I, on the other hand, am too scared to buy a house. Like a big wimpy baby, that whole house buying malarkey is some scary stuff. Like hairy spider scary, like tarantula scary, like those dinner plate sized spiders the soldier boys were shooting at with more fear than the enemy. You get my point, I don’t want to do it by myself. Wahhhh!!!

Perhaps I wasn’t breast fed for long enough? 2 and half months Mum, wasn’t long enough. Poor Mum and her little boobies. Let’s blame Granma for that. I saw her in the shower once. I come from a family where I would happily sit on the closed toiled lid and chat away to my Mum when she was in the shower. Weird, I know. That’s what happens when you only have one child. Constant conversation! Never any peace! Let that be motivation to you breeders out there to produce more than one child! Lol. Anyhow, Grandma in the shower, I remember her boobs being flat as a pancake, she chuckled and called them ‘her googly eggs’. Flat googly eggs. Hilarious. We were an open bunch, nudity not a problem.

I am just glad my lady line has no breast cancer, my half sisters line not so lucky. She literally died from breast cancer, as did her mother and she has a daughter with the most perfect boobs, sadly she probably carries the gene, let’s face it. Those lovely mounds of fat can kill you. Tragic but true. Moral of the story? Who the fuck knows? This is the biggest tangent so far I have written. Boobs are great, then you die. There is one for you!

My point is there is no point. Enjoy your day. Be curious, follow your instincts in life, listen to your heart, and do whatever it is you bloody well feel like. We are all here for a finite period of time. And if you are blessed with possessing a burning dream right now, a fiery desire to do one thing in particular, please, for goodness sake, GO AND BLOODY DO IT!!! If you need a pep talk, or some lateral thinking suggestions, please feel free to comment with your dream and your challenges. I would love to come up with some solutions. Because I am curious, and I am excellent at solving problems, especially other peoples problems. They always seem so much easier to fix. Why is that? No emotional connection! Boom!

And here is an ode to my Guatemalan friend: ‘Be curious! Kill the cat!’ We got that translation all wrong! P.S. I love cats. I even want to get one. One day. When I feel like I can be a responsible pet owner and not want to sell all my shit and abandon life and travel the world whimsically following my wild imagination. It just might happen. Watch this space. The cat or the wild travels? Maybe both. One day at a time. Now where is that tea I brewed 40 mins ago? Oh one more thing. Gosh I am so side-tracked today. This:

Phew, it’s out. Be curious. Do it already.

Anita xx

What are you curious about? Right now? Like now?