Can someone identify me?
(Or: Give this guy something to do!)
by JP
When I was a teen I really came into my own for a couple years. Learned new skills. One in particular I thought could provide a livelihood perhaps, but no way could it really. Poverty is all I coulda hoped for. I’m wondering if anyone could suggest a similar activity, one that uses the same skills to actually earn a living. I’ll describe it to you…you tell me what you think the skill was…and/or a similar activity you think could actually pan out. OK? Maybe it’s only hindsight, but it seemed better than typing.
Here goes. I was out in the fresh air a lot. Hiking, driving, biking, boating quite a bit most every day. Wind, rain or snow. Light or dark. Dark a lot. Up before dawn a lot. Carrying heavy loads. I was out doing it for two solid seasons a year, but wouldn’t mind being outside all four seasons. I got really into fields, woods, swamps, streams, rivers, ditches. They became my close acquaintances. I became quite weather savvy. I learned a lot about animals. I saw deer and pheasants every day, knew where they came and went, and waved G’morning to them as I hiked along. Spent months preparing. I had lots of nifty arcane equipment to maintain. I met a lot of new people and was treated as an adult.
I always looked for signs, kept my eye open for discoveries. And found them. I came upon many special and new places…not frequented by anyone else. I had an explorer/sleuth mentality. And many a time found treasure to make a heart pound. In fact my cousin, who was my partner, and I would call such places “Treasure City Heaven.”
I never cared a whit for trails or fences. No parks for me, either. I came to rather dislike land ‘set aside’ for precious mincing around. I saw all the land as the same. Like the Indians. I preferred land above and beyond the System. When I stood and watched the sun set, it wasn’t with rollerbladers whizzing by me on a sportspath, it was out on the land. Somehow because it wasn’t official, it was real.
I got along with farmers. Worse with folk newly arrived from the city who spent no time outside, but who worried a lot about the fallow land they never set foot on. –And who had psychotic fits if a person other than themselves touched it. I never once did any more to their land than a deer would. In fact, while I was there, they could’ve been confident of total security against anyone who really would’ve hurt their land. But I never saw these people, because they were never outside. They lived in the margins of rural-burbia. I lived in the margins of their margins. We never saw each other except by accident…and then the city folk would always have a cow, fit, tantrum or all three. As you can tell, I developed a weird thing about trespassing which I have yet to resolve.
I felt I was developing a holistic feel for the whole county. I didn’t deplete any resource. I was a well-honed freelancer. By myself or with a partner or close friends. I had a lot of responsibility and duty, which I upheld and I produced work of quality beyond my years. I felt like a farmer. Part of a long, strong heritage. Part of a very distinct seasonal cycle. A jack of all trades.
I had nobody to entertain, nothing to serve, other than my duty. No power over anyone. Just me and the land and all my senses all day long.
What was I doing? And what could one do similarly for a real job? –Seminars? –Photography? (Don’t know whether to laugh or cry.)
Emergency Update: I just realized the trade to which my skills are daring me. Prospecting. Salvage. Treasure-hunting. Antiquing/collectibles-finding. Along with gardening, subsistence harvesting and DTP. Oh boy, I’m a goner. No hope.
