Life is a banquet

It’s a sunny Wednesday morning and I’m parked on my sofa with a cup of hot chocolate and mini marshmallows. It was a slightly rough start to the morning. My sleep was very broken last night and I woke up cranky and just a tad tired.

I messaged a friend who now lives in Texas; she moved away from Chicago a few months back. She’s a special kind of crazy. A few weeks after moving to Dallas she was in a motorcycle accident which ended with the police and bystanders lifting the car off her body because she wasn’t breathing and they couldn’t wait for the fire department. She lived because they did what they did in the face of a seemingly impossible task. The Dallas PD and those random strangers are why she’s alive today. Her hand was basically reattached and she was back out there doing her thing with a smile because she refuses to be stapled down.

She’s a few years older than me but looks 15 years younger because she makes taking care of herself a priority. She teaches yoga in her spare time, she eats right, she makes time for fun in her life. She lives her life in bright red while most of us plod along living in dull shades of grey. She’s travelled to random places alone; so what if she can’t speak the language; so what if there’s no-one to go with her; she goes anyway. Dog sledding? Why not!

She throws her heart at life, sometimes it works out and sometimes it doesn’t. Even when it doesn’t, she just does it again somewhere else and the cycle of Kara continues. Her life is full of exotic places and memories most of us are too chicken-shit to try. Yes, I know, not everyone can do that and not everyone wants to. This isn’t a judgement. My point is, are YOU doing what you want to be doing? Are YOU living a life that makes you happy? Are YOU filling your pages with memories or are you living like me? Safely hiding from life so you don’t get hurt, never fully living because you’d rather be safe? Safely surrounded by shades of grey because the colours might hurt?

Some areas of my life have been lived with crazy abandon but not many. There are the crazy memories of diving with Great White sharks in South Africa, going white water rafting in Canada, swimming in the cenotes in Mexico, zip-lining around an obstacle course in England, learning to scuba dive and climbing a Mayan pyramid in the jungles of Mexico. The best memories are of the things that scared me shitless. There’s something to be said about stepping out of my comfort zone, all the best stuff is on the other side of that line. I’ve been fortunate and I’m grateful.

While I don’t have the means to traipse halfway around the world on a mad adventure right now, there’s always room to make happier choices on smaller things.

Everyone should have a Kara in their lives. Someone to remind them to take risks and dare to live gloriously.

I knew a woman many years ago when I lived in South Africa. She was marvelous! An English woman in her 70’s with a boyfriend many years her junior. She wore crazy clothes and beautiful hats; she did yoga every day ‘because it makes you a lot more flexible for great sex my dear’; she travelled wherever the hell she wanted when it pleased her; she indulged in great foods and wines because life should never be boring. Sort of like a Bohemian with expensive taste in pleasure. She brought me back a pair of French lace stockings from one of her trips; the scandalous kind that end just above the knee. This was a woman who never let a damn thing get in her way. Over an afternoon cream tea one weekend she told me if she had to do it again, she’d come back as a courtesan.

Seeing women living large tends to offend quite a few people for some reason. Especially if that woman makes no apology for sucking the juice out of life. A woman who doesn’t care what others think of her is a terrifying creature. For many years I’ve said I would like to be like her when I get older. Well, I’m a decade older than I was the last time I saw her. I don’t know if she’s still alive. I hope so. Have I made a single inroad into living a large colourful life? I don’t think I have. I was called a Renaissance woman a few years back. It was the best compliment I’ve ever received.

I’ve limited myself in the interests of not getting hurt. Here I am, on my sofa, missing out on my life because it’s what I’ve chosen until now. Weeks, months and years have been wasted in an attempt to keep myself from the bumps in the road instead of learning to glide around them. I may never be the type of person who can join in the crowds and dance salsa with a stranger. I can be the type of person who prioritizes pleasures in other things; things that I enjoy doing.

The person I am inside and the reflection in the mirror don’t match. They haven’t for the longest time. I know who I am and it’s time to take her out of storage, regardless of whether it suits anyone else. There’s a possibility I’m going to be that crazy aunt at the dinner table who comes out with something randomly inappropriate at the oddest time. I pretty much do that anyway. Aim to be the bright splash of colour in a world of grey.

birdie

My plan to relocate to Scotland has ruffled a few feathers and I have one friend who categorically thinks it’s a dumb idea. Sorry mate, the road is calling and I must go. I hope one day you follow the road that calls to you and may the wind be at your back when you do. There are people who are born to live and die in one place; who need to be anchored with roots. I am not one of those people. The winds of change whisper and I go. I may be tired and resist the change, but I go anyway because the whispering will not stop until I do. It’s beyond a whisper now. It’s an outright scream in the void and I will go.

The one thing I know for sure is that this will be the last time. I have found the missing piece of the map home and it’s time to complete the journey. The HOW remains to be seen.

Between today and the HOW is the business of living. In the meantime, remember the timeless wisdom of Aunty Mame. ‘Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death.’

Dish up a big plate and savour every morsel of it. Now is not the time to be mindful of your figure.

 

Author: MacScottie

I'm a South African-born American who dabbles in writing, photography and cookery. I lived in England for 6 years before moving to America. My first trip to Scotland was in 2003 and it was love at first sight. 4 trips later & I'm now on a quest to find a way back to my soul-home in Scotland. I've picked up favourite foods in each place I've lived so I'm a product of all the places I've been. A sprinkling of this, a dash of that and in an emergency, a generous splash of Scotch!

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