The Importance of Now, Part Two

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ImageSome of you may have seen on Facebook about Oldest Junior Hall and his trip to New Zealand. But there’s a whole backstory to Joey’s (the afore-mentioned Oldest Junior Hall) trip, so I thought I’d share that along with “The Importance of Now“. I wanted to include Joey’s story with that afore-mentioned Muffin post, but I ran out of space. So here are the rest of the words, another look at the importance of now.

Joey is big on seeing the world. And that’s all well and good, as far as broadening one’s horizons. But seeing the world requires a bankroll to finance the travel hither and yon. So about three or four years ago, after he’d successfully managed a trip to the Grand Canyon and back without falling into the Grand Canyon, he decided he would go on an even grander trip. And so he began to plan.

He had a good job that paid enough for him to live a comfortable lifestyle. But that wasn’t part of the plan. The plan was to save money, little by little, so that one day he could afford a grand adventure.

He brought his lunch to work. He lived in a basement apartment (it was a nice basement apartment but not exactly the kind of space that screams, “Really cool bachelor lives here.”) at a bargain basement rent. Way out in the suburbs of the ATL where it’s far cheaper to live. He continued to drive a somewhat beat-up car that already had well over 100,000 miles on it. He enjoyed activities and such on the weekends–I mean, he wasn’t a hermit or anything–but basically, he opted for a frugal lifestyle.

And to be honest, it was pretty funny, this crazy kid with his Ramen noodles and watching his weight so he could still fit into his clothes from high school (he just turned 29). But then, last summer, he announced his big plan to go to New Zealand. And not just go to New Zealand but to sort of live there, for like, a year.

It was something he’d always wanted to do, and day by day, little by little, he’d worked towards that goal. And then last week, he was off on his grand adventure. To New Zealand. Wow.

Of course we’ll miss him and his noodles. But holy Auckland, I was so excited for him! So happy for him as I hugged him at the airport. He’d actually done it.

There’s something in your heart that you want to do, too. Maybe it’s a grand adventure, maybe it’s writing a grand story. Or maybe it’s growing your own vegetables. It’s not so much what the dream is as it is starting the daily work to get you to that dream.

That’s the importance of now.

 

Friday’s Fun Find: A Fishy Tale (It’s the March Madness Writing Contest!)

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Come on, now. You knew I was going to write a fractured fairy tale for Susanna Leonard Hill’s contest, right?

And as I sat, staring at my blog, a fish fairy tale came to me. (You probably saw that coming, too.) But as I wrote, another fairy tale came to me, and then another, and …well, you’ll just have to read for yourself:

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A Fishy Tale

 

One spring day, a fish was swimming in its stream. He heard footsteps on the bridge above.

 Knick-knack, knick-knack went the steps.

 “Hey!” the fish roared in a bubbly squeak. “Who’s that knick-knacking across my bridge?”

 A little girl peered over the bridge. “It is I, Little Red Riding Hood. I’m taking goodies to Granny’s house.”

 “Give me your goodies or I shall eat you up,” said the fish.

 “Hmph,” said the girl. “You are a fish. But since you are hungry, I will give you a few crumbs.”

 She tossed a few crumbs and then crossed the bridge, turning right at the fork in the road.

 Soon, the fish heard soft padding across the bridge.

 “Who’s that softly padding across my bridge?” squeaked-roared the fish.

 “It is I, the Big Bad Wolf,” said a very scary-looking wolf. “And I am going to eat you up!”

 “Wait,” cried the fish. “There is a much tastier morsel than I. If you take the left fork in the road, you shall find a sweet, little girl.”

The fish was pleased that he had directed the wolf in the wrong direction. Alas, he had sent the wolf down the shortcut to Granny’s. But that’s a story for another day.

Soon, three little pigs skipped over the bridge.

 “Who’s that skip-skipping over my bridge?” squeaked the fish. (It was a busy bridge, and his roar was quite given out.)

 The third little pig, known as the brains of the bunch, baited a hook. “It’s the Three Little Pigs,” said the third pig. He tugged at the line and up came the fish.  “And we will have a fine dinner today.”

 “Wait,” said the fish. “I will grant you a wish if you let me go.”

 “Whee!” said the first piggy.

 “We want roast beef for supper,” said the second piggy.

 “Done,” said the fish. “Turn left at the fork. You’ll find lots of nice, red meat.”

 The two piggies released the fish.

 “Oh, for crying out loud,” said the third pig, who much preferred fish to meat. He stormed off the bridge, tripping over a stack of bricks. “Hmmm,” he said. “These bricks will come in handy.”

 The pig worked all day, laying bricks at the fork in the road. When he was done, he had a swell seafood restaurant and two little piggy waiters.

Plus all the business he could possibly handle.

 Bet you didn’t see that coming, right?

 (I hope you have a chance to read more of the fractured fairy tales this fine weekend. And P.S. It’s not too late to write your own!)