Excitement. One word that can lead to a multitude of outcomes.
I received a birthday card from Aunt Laurie (currently hanging over my desk) that shows a more than excited little girl and the words “…and the mermaid cake and the magic guy and the swirly ice cream and the piñata and the…” I can completely relate to this little girl- (especially over the fact that she wants a mermaid cake. And a magic guy.)
Excitement fuels the intensity for which we live. It kindles our very being and pushes us. It fills the gaps between dreams and reality. It’s the zest for a life worth living and something to look forward to, and gives your heart a natural cardio workout that’s much better than going to the gym. It’s also easy to spot because those that have it in their blood seem to be on fire. On the other hand it can also cause you to overreact, have accidents, and let your nerves get the best of you.
I think that some people see excitement as a one-size-fits-all kind of deal: when you’re a child your body is smaller and thus is much more easily overtaken by excitement, but as you grow, your body becomes larger and much more able to withstand or contain the excitement and anyone that cannot contain it is either confused or just plum crazy.
I disagree. I believe excitement grows in direct proportion with the body, but some find it more comfortable in a serene, less stimulating adulthood and choose not to acknowledge their zeal. Eww.
I want to be intoxicated by everything. If there are no fireworks, I don’t care to waste my time.
Recently I have been excited about healthy lifestyle changes. (Temporary until I decide which ones I like the most.) I have always been an advocate of chiropractic wellness and hot teas. So I decided to start researching health benefits of tea, which led me to vitamins and supplements, and the next thing I know, I’m shopping for a reasonable fruit and veggie juicer for the “casual juicer” like myself. (I’ve never juiced anything, but I like a good spinach smoothie on occasion so why on earth wouldn’t I also be a fabulous juicer on occasion? note: sarcasm)
A couple weeks ago I landed in a yoga class where I was thoroughly enjoying myself in all the toe spreading and pelvic stretching goodness, and absolutely considering making it a weekly routine. So I started searching for other fitness classes in my area and eventually caught myself reading about ballet classes- of which I am definitely not cut out for.
I am the worst about letting my excitement carry me away to over-the-top-ness. But I think that’s why I like it. I look at fashion magazines and fall in love with weird tutus and head pieces and immediately picture myself wearing them to Walmart and the gas station and all the other usual places I attend, none of which seem fitting at all. I can stand staring at my closet all morning asking “what do I want to be today?” and the answer will usually always be the same because I don’t think the venues that I frequent are up to par with the visions in my head. I guess I could stand to be a little more daring when it comes to certain choices like what I feel like wearing, but the excitement is still there, none the less.
Another excitement that I felt recently (and forgot to blog about) was that of “sitting on a turkey.” I grew up in a family of hunters, however the sport never grew well on me. Mostly because spiders in the woods are way bigger than house spiders and after sitting for 30 minutes looking at the same trees, my attention deficit gets the best of me and I start thinking about things that completely distract me from the whole point of being there in the first place. But I can now say that I have had a rich and exciting turkey hunt, without the attention deficit (for the most part).
Before I tell the story, here’s a little turkey hunting vocabulary in case you’re like me and didn’t know:
On a turkey: You’re not really on him, you’re just tracking him closely and can guess his whereabouts.
Cut: No knives involved. This actually is the verb used when you call a turkey.
Roost: The noun form is where the turkey rests. To roost a turkey (verb) means to scare him up into the roost spot (noun), typically at the end of the day, so you know where to find them in the morning when he starts moving again, making the hunt much easier.
Now back to the story….
After trekking through the woods all morning listening for gobbles and trying my best to step only when Alex stepped in order to make as little noise as possible (something I’ve never been good at), we finally got to….eat lunch! I know that’s not what you were thinking I was going to say but at that point it was probably the second most glorious part of the day, right behind hearing the first turkey of the morning, which also happened to be the first turkey I’ve ever heard. Ever. Weird, but they don’t sound like what I thought they would, making the whole experience even more surprising. (At one point we were “on one” and I admit that I did get a little excited, but when we rounded the corner, he had vanished. These birds are magicians- literally. No other explanation.)
Finally, after eating my ever first order of Church’s Chicken (two thumbs up) for lunch, we set out to check out the woods with no real hopes of seeing or hearing anything since most turkey movement is in the early morning. We stopped once for Alex’s dad to “cut”. The second time we stopped for a “cut”, only about 40 yards or so from the previous spot, we heard one call back! Following Alex’s lead, we bailed off into the ravine and quickly found a tree to sit against. I pulled my face mask on as fast as I could and just as I got my gun up, the ole Tom (turkey) came strutting out. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I slowly put my bead on him just as he popped his head up but I couldn’t think fast enough. He strutted past a tree, which ultimately blocked my shot and as soon as Alex realized, he took it for me. Turkey down. Apparently I wasn’t the only one not breathing because after the shot, Alex couldn’t seem to catch his breath either.
A strutting turkey is actually a funny thing to watch, but in moments like that when excitement creeps up on you out of nowhere, it’s almost magical, and definitely breath taking. One minute I’m walking down a dirt path, smelling like chicken, and being annoyed that I don’t have my sunglasses. The next minute I’m trying to think and gain enough focus to simply pull a trigger. Excitement has a way of capturing and paralyzing me in those moments. Time slowed down while my heart raced on. And after the dust had settled, I finally understood the hunter’s addiction. Rushes like that are intoxicating and drug-like. Similar to finding the dress you’ve been eyeing on the clearance rack- in your size!
It’s those times that make life so full of life. Embrace excitement. Celebrate every single day and all that it holds. And know that even the attention deficit woman can find as much of a happy place in the woods as she can on a yoga mat or at a clearance event.
Namaste.
Love always,
Addie
“I like living. I have sometimes been wildly despairing, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.” –Agatha Christie
Breaking out of the Bootheel 