In response to a response to a previous post I wrote:
As a diver, I was taught that you should only dive with a buddy. Over the years I learned that buddies are often more of a liability than a benefit, and eventually, I became a solitary diver whenever I could not go out with trusted companions. Biking can be a bit similar. It is good to have a companion, as long as one does not have to constantly shepherd them. I was an only child in the early and most formative years of my character, so I have always had an independent, self reliant streak. I have, over the years, got myself into some severe and sometimes life-threatening situations (often deliberately) when diving, surfing, fishing, 4 wheel driving or climbing, and always I managed to stay calm enough to get out of them. So far.
After thinking about it for a while, I realised that I had just summed up my lifetime from playing in the sandpit through to sailing on the sea and tramping the hills of Hawkes Bay. It feels as if my forays into marriage and parenthood have been an aberration. Or a temporary collaboration, perhaps. I think back to all the sailing I did, mostly alone. Diving, often alone. Tramping and hunting also mostly.
Carl interrupted while I was writing that. I lost my train of thought. Now he has gone. What was I going to write next? Leave it for now. I’ll come back later.