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Authors: Miranda Dickinson
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to back out. ‘That’s not going to work, mate. I’ve got to do it.’
There is something to be said for careful consideration and thought. Since the loss of her parents, Harri had relied upon her head to lead the way for every decision she made. As far as Harri was concerned, it was a much better option than trusting her heart, which often sent her in a different direction entirely. Unfortunately, she was surrounded by an entire clan of heart-followers – Viv, Alex, Stella and even Tom at work – none of whom seemed to agree with her cautiousness.
‘How are you ever going to do exciting things if you spend all your time just thinking about them?’ Stella often asked.
Secretly, Harri longed to be the type of person who threw caution to the wind and just went with the flow. Like Alex was. The tales of his spontaneity were nigh on legendary . He had just decided, one Monday afternoon thirteen years ago, whilst sitting at his desk in the large insurance firm he worked for, to quit and see the world. He typed out his resignation letter, walked straight into his boss’s office and, five minutes later, cleared his desk and left the building forever. Four weeks later, he was on a plane to Australia with only the next four months of his life planned. From there he met a friend who was travelling to New Zealand, so that’s where he went next, finding a job at a backpackers’ hostel for six months, doing general chores at first, then working in the kitchens. One of the girls visiting the hostel was the daughter of a hotel owner in Singapore who just happened to be looking for a sous chef for his busy restaurant, so Alex packed up again and went to work there. And so it continued, year after year; one spur-ofthe-moment decision after another, taking Alex all over the world.
‘How do you do it?’ Harri asked him one Wednesday night, as he expertly juggled steaming pans in the kitchen of his flat above the shop. This particular evening Malaysian Ginger Prawns were on the menu, stir-fried with fresh root ginger that made the tongue tingle and sweet honey to soothe the palate, served on a bed of fragrant jasmine rice. As Harri leaned against the breakfast bar, the aroma of the meal sent images of floating markets, bamboo houses and piles of multicoloured spices whizzing through her mind.
‘How do I do what?’ Alex replied through a cloud of ginger-infused steam as he lifted the wok lid.
‘The whole spontaneity thing.’
Alex let out a laugh that filled the whole room. ‘What kind of a question is that?’
‘I’m just curious.’
‘Considering becoming a spontaneity convert, eh?’
‘I didn’t say that. It’s just that I seem to be the only person in the entire world who can’t just do things.’
His eyebrows lifted slightly. ‘And that bothers you?’
Harri felt her defences prickle. ‘No, not really. It’s just – something I was thinking about, that’s all.’
Alex’s grin was mischievous but not unkind. ‘Ah, well, you see, that’s where the problem lies, H: if you’re thinking about being spontaneous then you’ve kind of missed the point.’
Harri shook her head. ‘Very funny, Mr Seat-of-His-Pants-Flyer. Forget I said anything, OK?’
‘Aw, mate, I’m sorry. You just make it too easy . . . Look, I can’t explain how to be spontaneous. It’s something you do , not something you psychoanalyse. Don’t question, don’t worry and certainly don’t deliberate. If it feels right, you just go with it.’
‘But don’t you ever worry about it all going wrong?’
‘Heck, Harri, you know me. Sometimes it does go wrong. Spectacularly wrong on several occasions, as you no doubt can recall. But I never worry about it: if it all goes belly up then I just deal with the consequences. If you think about things too much, you’ll never do anything, or go anywhere.’
Harri could almost imagine a version of herself setting off happily into the unknown – but quickly the questions and contingencies
There is something to be said for careful consideration and thought. Since the loss of her parents, Harri had relied upon her head to lead the way for every decision she made. As far as Harri was concerned, it was a much better option than trusting her heart, which often sent her in a different direction entirely. Unfortunately, she was surrounded by an entire clan of heart-followers – Viv, Alex, Stella and even Tom at work – none of whom seemed to agree with her cautiousness.
‘How are you ever going to do exciting things if you spend all your time just thinking about them?’ Stella often asked.
Secretly, Harri longed to be the type of person who threw caution to the wind and just went with the flow. Like Alex was. The tales of his spontaneity were nigh on legendary . He had just decided, one Monday afternoon thirteen years ago, whilst sitting at his desk in the large insurance firm he worked for, to quit and see the world. He typed out his resignation letter, walked straight into his boss’s office and, five minutes later, cleared his desk and left the building forever. Four weeks later, he was on a plane to Australia with only the next four months of his life planned. From there he met a friend who was travelling to New Zealand, so that’s where he went next, finding a job at a backpackers’ hostel for six months, doing general chores at first, then working in the kitchens. One of the girls visiting the hostel was the daughter of a hotel owner in Singapore who just happened to be looking for a sous chef for his busy restaurant, so Alex packed up again and went to work there. And so it continued, year after year; one spur-ofthe-moment decision after another, taking Alex all over the world.
‘How do you do it?’ Harri asked him one Wednesday night, as he expertly juggled steaming pans in the kitchen of his flat above the shop. This particular evening Malaysian Ginger Prawns were on the menu, stir-fried with fresh root ginger that made the tongue tingle and sweet honey to soothe the palate, served on a bed of fragrant jasmine rice. As Harri leaned against the breakfast bar, the aroma of the meal sent images of floating markets, bamboo houses and piles of multicoloured spices whizzing through her mind.
‘How do I do what?’ Alex replied through a cloud of ginger-infused steam as he lifted the wok lid.
‘The whole spontaneity thing.’
Alex let out a laugh that filled the whole room. ‘What kind of a question is that?’
‘I’m just curious.’
‘Considering becoming a spontaneity convert, eh?’
‘I didn’t say that. It’s just that I seem to be the only person in the entire world who can’t just do things.’
His eyebrows lifted slightly. ‘And that bothers you?’
Harri felt her defences prickle. ‘No, not really. It’s just – something I was thinking about, that’s all.’
Alex’s grin was mischievous but not unkind. ‘Ah, well, you see, that’s where the problem lies, H: if you’re thinking about being spontaneous then you’ve kind of missed the point.’
Harri shook her head. ‘Very funny, Mr Seat-of-His-Pants-Flyer. Forget I said anything, OK?’
‘Aw, mate, I’m sorry. You just make it too easy . . . Look, I can’t explain how to be spontaneous. It’s something you do , not something you psychoanalyse. Don’t question, don’t worry and certainly don’t deliberate. If it feels right, you just go with it.’
‘But don’t you ever worry about it all going wrong?’
‘Heck, Harri, you know me. Sometimes it does go wrong. Spectacularly wrong on several occasions, as you no doubt can recall. But I never worry about it: if it all goes belly up then I just deal with the consequences. If you think about things too much, you’ll never do anything, or go anywhere.’
Harri could almost imagine a version of herself setting off happily into the unknown – but quickly the questions and contingencies
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