Like most kids, I created imaginary worlds galore. Given the alternative – like actually paying attention in Mr. Lee’s math class – it seemed like the sensible thing to do.
Growing up, I had to be reliant on a vivid inner landscape. My home town was great if you liked hockey, skiing, or hockey, did I mention hockey? Snow, ice, or, yeah, hockey … but not so much the kind of historical, magical adventure that I wanted. I’ve never been that big on Sasquatch or Wayne Gretzky. I was the kid into Narnia and King Arthur.
Yup, when the snowdrifts reach the eaves of the house and it’s still coming down in April, daydreaming is a lifeline to sanity. Now that I’m grown up life is better. I moved to a better climate, for starters. Sadly, hockey persists.
The human heart is nothing if not perverse. I made that flight to freedom and independence that is the birthright of every child, but now I daydream about the people and places where I grew up. I daydream about my ballet studio, the smell and crunch of rosin and the soft winter sun streaming through windows shot with frost. Walking down the street after Saturday morning class, bundled in boots and parka, squeezing into the bakery for doughnuts and hot cocoa and the bakery door gasping fragrant steam into the street. My grandma’s apartment–at that time one of the highest in the city–and the panorama of old-style, animated neon signs that danced along the streets below her balcony. Seeing the cowboys who came through the city on their way north and thinking they looked nothing like their counterparts on TV. Getting a pale blue transistor radio for Christmas and discovering rock and roll.
We become nostalgic about the things that seemed so paltry to our adolescent selves. These images aren’t the stuff of memoirs, the launchpad of some great coming-of-age saga. They’re just snapshots that draw me back, longing for something I can’t name. Simplicity? That’s not really it. The borscht-to-go at Baba’s Village? Yeah, I definitely could revisit that, plastic spoons and all. Maybe it’s just that I had time to really notice things back then, enough that their spice and savour still lingers. Today, everything’s a blur.
Of course I daydream about other things – a writer has to create worlds. And, I dream about places I’d like to go: Venice, Madrid, Paris. I dream about finally getting my garden in order. I dream about an extra bedroom I could use as an office and maybe even a teapot that will pour without dripping. As life progresses, some dreams are getting more practical.
Some haven’t changed at all. I still want to lead my merry band of adventurers to victory over the evil sorcerer, slay the dragon, and drag the handsome knight home for pleasant dalliance in my castle tower. That’s still better than Mr. Lee’s math class, and it’s sure a sight better than most finance meetings.
I think dreams prove that parts of the soul never grow up at all. I’m still looking forward to the fireworks tonight. Happy Canada Day.
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Happy Canada Day! I assume Happy Hockey Day is included in that
Time is such a crucial element of daydreaming. Without a bit of free time, we can’t even do it. Maybe that’s why we drift back to times when we had time.
by Jessa Slade July 1st, 2009 at 12:02 pmHappy Canada Day, Sharon!
Now that you mention disappearing in math class, I recall doing that, too. I used to love history–but not the facts and dates my teacher tried to stuff down my throat. I loved imagining what it would be like to live in those time periods. Riding horses, shooting arrows, and befriending dragons. Though, I’m pretty sure the dragons were not covered in the curriculum.
by Annette McCleave July 1st, 2009 at 2:35 pmIt is a great irony that I avoided doing math for so many years and today just spent the last six hours doing corporate tax homework. Somewhere, my old math teacher is having a good laugh.
by Sharon Ashwood July 1st, 2009 at 4:50 pmSharon, you’ve made me homesick for things that don’t exist anymore and made me wonder what my daughters will feel nostalgic about years from now.
Happy Belated Canda Day! (Cold weather aside, I really love Canada.)
by Allison Chase July 2nd, 2009 at 8:42 amSharon,
You painted (with words!) some beautiful memories there! Thank you for sharing them with us.
Kim
by Kim Lenox July 2nd, 2009 at 6:47 pmThey are lovely aren’t they those childhood memories. How funny the story of Mr. Lee. It made me think about my own time in school. Often I was being told of for daydreaming during Biology. My teacher (who’s name I can’t remember) had a monotone voice that easily put me to dreaming. Now I think it could not have been easy to constantly teach a group of kids that didn’t really want to learn anything. And I wonder what the teacher must have been dreaming about. A vacation to the Bahamas perhaps?
by Kirsten July 3rd, 2009 at 6:01 am