Always a beginner

By Alison Colavecchia, 11.10.01 (www.slowtwitch.com)

I will always be a beginner.

I grew up with a Mom who believes you are never too old to learn. She led by example on this one. I don’t remember a time when she wasn’t taking a course of some sort. Even now in retirement she has taken computer courses and attended lectures of different kinds. As kids, of course, this philosophy demonstrated to us that at no time could we ever presume to know it all.

After graduate school, and knowing I still had a lot to learn from the university of life, I went to Japan for six months. With no job, no place to stay, speaking no Japanese, and only a single familiar face in the entire country (and in a different city), staying became a sort of endurance test I suppose. But I needed to know if I could quite literally start from scratch and survive.

I woke up my first morning painfully aware that I had not brought nearly enough money, that I'd better stay away from sake, and that hanging with American stewardesses and Chicagoans could be a threat to my survival. I remained connected to the Chicagoan who not only became a wonderful roommate but also a good friend. He was a runner (and quite possibly a streaker, now that I am familiar with the term). I gradually learned how to find bathrooms, train stations and meals that didn’t cost two weeks worth of grocery money. I also learned how to get lost (and found) while running in a foreign country. Eventually, I also found several jobs, a supportive network of expats and that life can indeed be sustained on instant noodles.

On a bigger scale, I came to appreciate the freedoms North American women enjoy, the value of privacy and open spaces, and that Japanese history and art are everything I thought they would be. Most of all though I learned that if ever required of me I can start fresh and build a life for myself. I can survive. I came home a prouder Canadian with a newfound sense of the world and my place in it (very small). I learned a lot on this trip.

This summer, while we were away on vacation, I signed up for Ironman USA. When I came downstairs and told my Mom I was now "in" and exactly what "in" meant, my Mom looked at me with that motherly, "You’re gonna do what?" look but instead said, "Alison, what will you do for an encore?"

You see, she knows me.

She knows that something WILL come next––that I will still feel the need to do more learning even after the lessons have been gleaned from this Ironman. She and I are a lot alike in this way. While there is no doubt that I am learning in leaps and bounds on this Iron journey, all of life’s lessons will not be absorbed through this one endeavor. Life itself has a way of keeping it this way. Just when you think you know a lot, life bites you––lets you know you still have far to go. Terrorists strike, a baby is born, you start a new job and poof, you’re back at the beginning again.

Does it feel good to always be a beginner? Some days yes, some days no. Some days the lessons are too great and the feelings of ignorance overwhelming, other days the lessons are sweet and the feelings of joy unparalleled. What I do know, though, is that when I am not smug with knowing and am open to new learning, the world is just so full of possibilities. Would I trade a life of learning, of knowing and not knowing, of feeling small in a big world, for a life of complacency, predictability and feeling that the world is small and my own place in it large? Not a chance.

I’ll take life as a beginner every time.

Still tri’n