Wonderful Whimsy

What to do when I’m keen to write something, anything really, to cultivate and reinforce my habit of creative expression through writing and sate my passion for drip-feeding inane introspective perspectives to my wee beloved audience [sometimes just me 🙋‍♀️], but grossly underestimate the amount of time I realistically need to publish a new fully fleshed out article? I indulge in whimsy! Go down a rabbit hole that seemingly sprang out of nowhere, and what's more whimsical than that?!🐇📚

I have sooo many compositions in my Heart and Head, a backlog I lovingly and longingly refer to as 'the graveyard' that's accumulated over the last 6-7 years. I always start my weekend thinking… ‘Yes, this is the weekend to finally get to [INSERT TITLE], I can certainly smash that out in one weekend!’... then I realise these works take time and effort, and that I have the attention span of a butterfly on LSD, and I’m also prone to distracting myself with menial tasks instead of down-shifting into my creative space… Why one may ask? It’s either my brain trying to conserve the energy it takes me to create because that type of thinking doesn’t come naturally to me (i.e. What Agatha refers to as ‘laziness’ in her quote), or I’m a self-sabotaging masochist… it’s quite difficult to tell which at times; I reckon the ratio changes on any given weekend and that ratio is also impacted with how much cheesecake I’ve over-indulged in, which in turn effects my energy levels… Ah, we’re such complex animals us humans! 😅🤷‍♀️

All that to say my innovative solution to this existential conundrum today is succumbing to whimsy, a decidedly odd memory that randomly sprang to the forefront of my mind the other day that made me giggle. I love the friggin' word whimsy, just look at it, it's adorable! 😇🥰 Also, as my readers may well guess... no word in any of my posts is chosen lightly, each one is deliberate. Just read the definition... Not only is 'Wonderful Whimsy' delightfully alliterative, but good-god if this isn't a bit of me! Small suprise that curiousity got the better of me and my fingers started tapping out something completely unexpected and not at all what I had intended to write! 😅🐇🙏💖🎯

... a the definition for Capricious, because I honestly didn't know what that meant... 👀👈

The nature of  this particular 'Whim' originated from a sparked memory. 💥🧠 Being the Halloween-Spooky time of the year, the Unexpected Elements podcast I frequent mentioned Cryptids, and hinted that they may well have found their origins in passive aggressive parenting deterrent tactics to keep their kids well-away from unsafe practices... 

Suddenly there I was... about 11 years old... hoofing it along a long stretch of the country road I grew up on, Dog Hill Road, walking the two miles to my friends’ house. Just before climbing the final hill to my bestie's place I traverse a very flat stretch of land flanked by marshy wetlands. I quicken my pace as my heart begins to pound and I feel afraid… hoping like hell to avoid the swamp monster my Mother insisted inhabited this area… a swamp monster who nabbed little girls stupid enough to strike out on their own. 😉

As an adult hard on the heels on my fourth decade I pause now to consider why I took the chance despite that fear. I was quite gullible and I do remember thinking there was an appreciable chance this monster would indeed abduct me, yet I was quite determined nonetheless… Here’s what immediately comes to mind without over-analysing it...

• I was quite the little dissident, I didn’t like being told where and where-not to go 🖕
• I was at least 36% certain the swamp monster wasn’t an actual threat... I realise it sounds horrible, but thanks to my childhood obesity I always felt a bit protected from being an easy target (something I confrontingly discerned much later... like last year... lay at the root cause of said girth)  😳
• Mostly, and perhaps most importantly, I wanted to see my friend and spend time with her despite the risk… otherwise I’d be on my own all day long 👭💞

Now I realise what this seemingly inconsequential anecdote tells me about my inner values, and they’re true to form to this very day. I take risks to protect my sense of independence and prioritise my relationships. As a classically trained scientist, I also value data and each time I took that risk and walked that stretch of road without being sucked into the swamp by an elusive beast, I had more evidence that the risk wasn’t real... Holy shit, until I wrote that I didn't fully realise that my admiration for experimentation and the accumulation of resulting data manifested so young, possibly foretelling future career choices. 🤓🧪

What profound insights are your stories and prevailing memories telling you? 🐇💡

Original Publication Date 05 November 2023