On the Wisdom of Taking Aventures

So, as many of you know, I’ve been putting together online courses in “Taking the Aventure,”  which are all about using the medieval concept of aventure (not adventure — that came later) as a way of steering through life.  Aventures are those opportunities that come in from nowhere.  If they’re big, they take your breath away.  Sort of like the Holy Grail, which stopped the conversation at the Round Table for a while, till everybody got their bearings and went off to take the aventure, finding various forms of humiliation, now that I think about it, though one of them got taken up into heaven, which was, in that case, a Happy Ending.   At any rate, everybody got a story.  And also they got to learn more about themselves.  It was interesting, at the very least.  Arthur stayed home.  That was boring.

I’ve been living by aventure my entire life.  Even before I knew a name for it. 

At the moment, we’re living out one of the aventures I took — last summer, right after we said, “we MUST move to Albuquerque, as soon as possible, BEFORE we go out there to visit and just simply don’t come back,” I got a voluntary resignation offer in the mail, and well, here we are.  Talking to mortgage people in Albuquerque, and painting the living room in Pittsburgh. And saying things like, “oh, let’s not replant the hollyhocks.  We’re not going to be here to see them, anyway.”

Boy, do these things move fast, when they get going.

We’re not sorry.  We’ve never questioned whether or not we want to be on this aventure, since we set foot on it.  We just get a little dizzy sometimes, and anxious sometimes, and sometimes scared.

So today is all about doing household chores, and forgetting about the excellent aventure.  And maybe having a nap.