The Art of Lawn Mowing (And Various Other Vocations)
Chapter 1 – Coming of Age and Leaving Home
I will turn 22 in 10 days. It’s odd to even consider that in eight years from that date, I will be 30 years old. As I filter through memories from being a child, I remember wondering what it would be like to be a 30-year-old man and everything encompassing that title. Driving my own car was one thing for sure and having a beautiful wife was on the list. A big perk included no restrictions. No parents telling you what to do and having to earn your living by filling vats of elbow grease with honest hard work. It wasn’t really the “dream” per se, but it was an idea that roamed through my head when I was 17.
I left home for the first time when I was 17. It was a painful goodbye, leaving all my friends and life, as I knew it. Leaving it all for a small rural bible college in Peterborough, Ontario.
Looking back at that period in my life, I often wonder why it was there I decided to start my path towards becoming an independent man. Free from the rules and regulations my good parents imposed along with my gracious church, I dove whole-heartedly into my new surroundings. I went on long walks from the college into the city of Peterborough to explore and to find myself, although I don’t know what that really means. I attempted to change my persona to fit in with my fellow roommates and colleagues, which was too often unsuccessful.
I read books about subjects I had never encountered before and re-evaluated my relationship with God. I also met my future wife that year, but that is another story. A good one I might add.
Several ideas and career opportunities danced around in my mind the many nights I spent alone in my dorm room. Maybe I would be a pastor, but after a few classes in a preaching class dubbed Homiletics, I decided I should leaving the teaching to people who are able to articulate truth well. I also thought about pursuing a degree in philosophy – and while I will say I learned much about life in those two weeks – philosophy was more of something to be lived rather than taught, at least that’s my philosophy.
Long story short, I graduated when I was 18 and came back home “matured” and all that good stuff. I was such an idiot. I’ll probably say that in four years from now. I had the world in my arms. I also had the girl who makes that world worth it. I also had a book of clichés.