Tag Archives: blisters

Gut Versus Logic

“Decision is a risk rooted in the courage of being free.” ―Paul Tillich

On the precipice of a monumental life shift, I stand at the crossroads of familiar and foreign, watching the cargo bay doors slide open. Squinting in the sun, I think back to everything that’s led me to this particular moment, place, and time.

Like the resulting ripple from a stone’s journey into the pond, small single actions can rewrite the rules and codes branded into a stubborn psyche, resulting in a wholly altered destination.

Probably more than most, I’m hyper-nostalgic for the way a precise snapshot in time felt in my bones. That particular variety of “firsts” is forever lost to experience and the passing of time. But most major decisions are still weighted with the understanding that each step forward is also a step away. Making peace with that form of travel can bring blisters, and dry boots can only work so many wonders. So it’s either lace up or leave.

Any new frontier first presents itself as shadowed woods and crooked trails. Then the routes and roads become routine, the air smells the same, and a notion of home is born from repetition. To make that first push onto any path with an invisible destination is equal parts intimidating and exhilarating. Upending a fairly entrenched life for the distant promise of a more defined, aligned blueprint is a dive into the dark without a sense of the depth.

Trust is king.

Believe in yourself and your intentions. Close your eyes and leap.

Let the safety net reveal itself during the descent.

Adolescence Interrupted

Take Two

clapperboard1 2For more than a year, I have been burdened with the weight of lost opportunities, disappearing days, and a sense that I have made some very wrong turns on the road of life. I started to become acquainted with the lack of passion and the repetition of carbon copy weeks, but the last few months have brought some more pronounced realizations into focus.

I am not the person I wanted to be, the adult I envisioned, or the man fulfilling the dreams of my youth. I am merely existing, walking a line of straight, colorless paths with no discernible destination.

There is a buzz in my brain like the frequency of a guitar amp someone left humming in the corner of the room. That white noise has been there for years, but the murmur used to be a higher pitch, and it would fluctuate when life threw a curveball or offered a piece of good news. Now, it’s more of a drone,  whirring without variation in volume or tone. A flatline.

Luckily, I don’t get depressed, or this situation could get sticky. But, the fact that the current state of affairs is offering little in the way of options or progress is certainly a concern.

I am no longer a wily, wide-eyed teen with a long list of life’s adventures waiting to be checked. But I’m also not a twenty-something with ample time to make mistakes on the way to self-discovery. The blisters on my feet from spinning in circles on the road less traveled are starting to bleed through the socks.

Current technology doesn’t allow us to roll back the clock for another chance to do it right. I used to think that every situation and experience are specifically put on our plates to teach us lessons and make us who we are today. But, I have started wishing for another shot at living life the right way.

Like an adult do-over, I’ve been thinking about clean slates and going back to the starting line. I don’t mean this in a “if I knew then what I know now” kind of way. I’m talking about a true reboot. I want to begin the whole process again, without squandering my talent, wasting my time, and getting in my own way.

Reincarnation is probably my only viable shot at this plan, so I suppose I just have to cross my fingers and wait for round two.

I’m reminded of this quote from one of my favorite films, “Rounders,” and it hits home now more than ever:

“You don’t hear much about guys who take their shot and miss, but I’ll tell you what happens to ’em. They end up humping crappy jobs on graveyard shifts, trying to figure out how they came up short.”

Luckily, I’m not punching the graveyard card clock just yet, but I can certainly identify with the sentiment.

The future is not entirely bleak, and I’m taking the steps necessary to generate momentum. But, hitting a giant reset button doesn’t feel like the worst idea.

I suppose I’m stuck in this skin until it wrinkles and sags, so I may as well make the most of it.