Still Limitless
I'm writing this at twenty minutes after two on Sunday morning because the pain in my back from the shot in my groin a couple of days ago woke me up.
Also, Matthew just came into the house after being out celebrating his 20th birthday and I heard the fridge open ten times.
And finally, I'm fresh off a party with old friends, new friends and the best friends - family members - in which a lot of thoughts entered my mind.
You see, we talked about the glory days. We compared aches and pains. Most of us in the nearly 50 crowd were limping around.
"You have something hanging down your back," someone said to me.
"It's the tail from the ice pack," I said.
And none of that is the important stuff.
My sister made a passing statement as she sat between Sam and me talking.
"It's like looking at the same set of eyes and hearing the same voice."
Then a young adult in the crowd asked me what I was writing next.
"I haven't been doing much," I said. "I'm not really pursuing new things even though I have some in the can. I sort of did what I set out to do."
And then on the way home I was feeling contented.
I was driving alone.
There wasn't anyone along who could complain about my I-pod.
And I got the same song twice.
Landslide.
First Stevie Nicks singing it live and then immediately Natalie Maines from the Dixie Chicks.
(I love Stevie, but Natalie has a better voice).
And what hit me was:
Can I keep alive the childhood in my heart to rise above.
I actually played the song a third time (Natalie's version) to hear it again.
Songs are dropped in by the good Lord above.
It was a different party.
"I was 135 pounds when I graduated high school," I said. "My wife pointed at a photo of me and asked, 'Who was that?' and I told her he was the guy I ate."
And that little joke fit right in.
Where are we now?
The stages in life.
It would be nice if someone alerted us to when we were passing into a new stage. Like on a video game. Give us the next set of challenges. Let us know how to complete the level, using the things we used to get us through the previous levels.
Like the childhood in our hearts.
Before the Landslide brings us down.
And through it all, with the tail of the ice pack still trailing, I still felt contented.
So far I've sort of done what I set out to do.
And too many people slip off the tracks.
And come crashing down.
And too many people start off on the wrong path and can never get over onto the right one.
I thought of laughing with my friends. I thought of the same set of eyes staring back at me from the eyes of my child. I considered laughing at my hysterical brother-in-law, Chuck, doing an impression of my Dad, and I considered the guy I ate.
It felt like I'd reached a new level.
Ready for the challenges.
Still limitless.
Also, Matthew just came into the house after being out celebrating his 20th birthday and I heard the fridge open ten times.
And finally, I'm fresh off a party with old friends, new friends and the best friends - family members - in which a lot of thoughts entered my mind.
You see, we talked about the glory days. We compared aches and pains. Most of us in the nearly 50 crowd were limping around.
"You have something hanging down your back," someone said to me.
"It's the tail from the ice pack," I said.
And none of that is the important stuff.
My sister made a passing statement as she sat between Sam and me talking.
"It's like looking at the same set of eyes and hearing the same voice."
Then a young adult in the crowd asked me what I was writing next.
"I haven't been doing much," I said. "I'm not really pursuing new things even though I have some in the can. I sort of did what I set out to do."
And then on the way home I was feeling contented.
I was driving alone.
There wasn't anyone along who could complain about my I-pod.
And I got the same song twice.
Landslide.
First Stevie Nicks singing it live and then immediately Natalie Maines from the Dixie Chicks.
(I love Stevie, but Natalie has a better voice).
And what hit me was:
Can I keep alive the childhood in my heart to rise above.
I actually played the song a third time (Natalie's version) to hear it again.
Songs are dropped in by the good Lord above.
It was a different party.
"I was 135 pounds when I graduated high school," I said. "My wife pointed at a photo of me and asked, 'Who was that?' and I told her he was the guy I ate."
And that little joke fit right in.
Where are we now?
The stages in life.
It would be nice if someone alerted us to when we were passing into a new stage. Like on a video game. Give us the next set of challenges. Let us know how to complete the level, using the things we used to get us through the previous levels.
Like the childhood in our hearts.
Before the Landslide brings us down.
And through it all, with the tail of the ice pack still trailing, I still felt contented.
So far I've sort of done what I set out to do.
And too many people slip off the tracks.
And come crashing down.
And too many people start off on the wrong path and can never get over onto the right one.
I thought of laughing with my friends. I thought of the same set of eyes staring back at me from the eyes of my child. I considered laughing at my hysterical brother-in-law, Chuck, doing an impression of my Dad, and I considered the guy I ate.
It felt like I'd reached a new level.
Ready for the challenges.
Still limitless.
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