I have broached this subject before in my writing…the wonder of how much of who we are is who we were born as and how much is what we learn when we are young.
I had previously written about my son’s belief in Jesus in a home in which we don’t typically discuss religion. This, to me, was a sign that he was born to believe.
But now I find myself on the opposite side. My children both enjoy long, creepy walks in the cemetery. My oldest likes taking pictures with old graves, likes exploring and could spend hours in the spooky section at the party store. When he was three years old he grabbed a hold of a glow in the dark skeleton in said party store and would not let it go. This skeleton became the thing that he carried around with him.
I, of course, couldn’t be happier that my children LOVE Halloween and all things spooky. I don’t think it is weird at all that we enjoy the cemetery together or that we go hunting for the scariest decorations. But that is because I also love Halloween and all things spooky, this time of year is my absolute favorite. I have been in movies, commercials, on stage and behind the scenes in the spook world for many years and while I don’t do that anymore I still enjoy the season with my family very much.
This of course had me wondering, would my small children be all about the spook if I wasn’t?
I can’t answer that question. But it had me thinking about childhood and exposure.
I spent a sick amount of time binge watching Netflix this weekend (don’t judge) and after I finished my horse show, an older show that I used to watch religiously popped up and I thought hey why not! Seven seasons of shows will give me something to do for a long time when I get bored.
I started watching and began to feel an ache inside of me for a life that I had LOVED so dearly, a life that I had lived my whole life since birth until I just didn’t anymore. I was brought back to the rumble that radiates through your entire body, the exhilaration of holding on tight when that rip from the motorcycle explodes you onto the road, the freedom of being one with the wind.
I had lived all things biker since I was born. I was accustomed to ass-less chaps and paint on shirts, to tattoos, bandanas, braids and freedom and maybe that made me a lot of who I am today, which I still think is a pretty bad ass, right in your face, say it like it is type of girl who can’t get away from leather and lace.
But most people don’t live that life. And I wonder how much of my LOVE for that is from who I am and how much is from who my parents were.
Like I said, I am not here to answer the question just to wonder that maybe when we begin to wander, it isn’t because we are searching for something new rather longing for something long past.