Kurt Vonnegut's Magpie

More on why it's okay to be interested in everything

A couple of years ago , my good friend KJ shared a quote by Kurt Vonnegut on social media. Up until that moment, I’d never been quite able to articulate why I felt it was perfectly okay to be interested in everything. It has bothered me at times that I haven’t had the “discipline” to reach certain goals — playing piano at parties, improvising and entertaining, was one of them. Becoming an accomplished horse-person was another. I could list more things, but I’m resisting doing so and I think it’s because those stories haven’t been written yet. The whole of everyone’s life is still a work in progress. You don’t know what you may still do, what you may still discover, and there is nothing saying that anything you try out (or once enjoyed and left behind) won’t someday actually float to the top and become that thing — that thing that you do really well, that thing you excel at. But again, it bears repeating again and again and again. If nothing floats to the top, that’s OKAY! Just keep doing those ten things, or twenty things, because you enjoy doing them. Anyway, Vonnegut, of course went on to become one of America’s most famous writers. Here’s his take on being a Magpie:

When I was 15, I spent a month working on an archeological dig. I was talking to one of the archeologists one day during our lunch break and he asked those kinds of “getting to know you” questions you ask young people: Do you play sports? What’s your favorite subject? And I told him, no I don’t play any sports. I do theater, I’m in choir, I play the violin and piano, I used to take art classes. And he went WOW. That’s amazing!

And I said, “Oh no, but I’m not any good at ANY of them.”

And he said something then that I will never forget and which absolutely blew my mind because no one had ever said anything like it to me before: “I don’t think being good at things is the point of doing them. I think you’ve got all these wonderful experiences with different skills, and that all teaches you things and makes you an interesting person, no matter how well you do them.”

And that honestly changed my life. Because I went from a failure, someone who hadn’t been talented enough at anything to excel, to someone who did things because I enjoyed them. I had been raised in such an achievement-oriented environment, so inundated with the myth of Talent, that I thought it was only worth doing things if you could “Win” at them.

And there it is. Do anything. Do everything. He also said:

I tell you, we are here on Earth to fart around, and don’t let anybody tell you different.

Play. Explore. Read. Write. Travel. Paint. Draw. Make movies. Bake. Cook. Sing. Dance. We are here on this earth but once, and for a brief time. Make the most of it. It’s been said that life is a vast blank canvas and that you should throw as much paint on it as you possibly can. I couldn’t agree more. Put the angst away and just do what you love. Follow your heart.

On Being Responsible

Do you have children? Aging parents? A spouse? What about pets? Do you have a job? It goes without saying (I hope) that as adults we take on responsibilities that we must balance against all the muses we might follow. So bear that in mind when you feel the tap on your shoulder. And there is something else I need to point out as well. Muses aren’t necessarily fun, creative, light-hearted experiences or adventures. Sometimes they are mundane, or in service of a greater good, or entirely cerebral.

Vox recently reported on a small patch of grass at the Chicago Rockford airport, a strip of land about 15 acres in size. It’s home to about 100 species of bees, among them the federally endangered rusty patched bumble bee. This small piece of land is called the Bell Bowl Prairie and environmentalists and conservationists have mobilized to try and save it from being paved over for a new road to service the Chicago Rockford airport. As a lover nature — forests, trees, mountains, oceans, wildlife of all kinds — I am fully on board with trying to protect this valuable strip of land. Something like this could be your thing. Working tirelessly, day and night, campaigning to save lives, small or large — on a massive scale (oceans) or a minor scale (bumble bees on a tiny patch of grass).

Or you might find yourself bound through fate to a child living nearby who needs your help with schoolwork. Or several children in a classroom who you know to be hungry, and you have made it your mission to ensure they have lunch every day.

Muses need not be large or small. They can be entirely frivolous, they can be in service of the greater good. But every one of them should be paid attention to, not ignored.

In the next issue: Attention, Discipline and “ADHD”

Photo © Sandra Cena, Calgary, Alberta, 2002.