Yet again, I am at a campground that has a big field, perfect for throwing frisbees in, and again, it is out in the obvious where any passer-by could watch me play.
To get to the field, I have to walk down the road a ways and pass through a gate. Right at that corner, a man and his wife like to sit under the awning of their RV. For the past two days, I had to pass them several times, frisbee in hand, and make myself forget that they have a great view of my flying disc circus. I've interacted with them a couple of times as I passed by, nothing more than a few quick and friendly exchanges about what I was doing in the field.
Today, I felt rather self-conscious. I'm throwing a disc, fetching it, talking to myself in between, and spending hours doing so. I must look a little mad to them right?
As I walked to the field, I hung my head a bit, feeling small. The man called out, "Practicing again?"
I looked up, smiled, and shrugged. "I enjoy it a lot."
"At least you got something better than sitting at a computer or hunched over a phone all day."
We both laughed as I agreed.
I'd never even considered the possibility he could think it anything other than strange, let alone a good thing. In the future, I don't want to be quick to assume how other people view my passions and interests. Maybe they'll think I'm a little crazy, and that's okay; I won't let it stop me. But maybe, more often than I would think, people look at what I'm doing and smile.