Tag Archives: swing for the fences

The Tragic Reality of a Broken Rewind Button

Carpe diem. Swing for the fences. Close your eyes and leap. Dive into the deep end. Roll the dice. Put it on the line. Take a shot in the dark.

Be brave. Be bold.

These romantic notions evoke images of successful risks taken in the face of mounting odds. But what about the missteps? The airballs? The stumbles and falls? The shaky landings? The face plants? The skid outs? The crashes?

We routinely go for broke without considering the possibility of being broken.

In this instant gratification snapshot of human history, we rely on the convenience of continual personally catered satisfaction, equipped with an easy undo keystroke, always ready and waiting. But not every sentence can be erased, and not every step can be walked back.

The unfortunate realization that some decisions are set in stone, no matter how much we chisel and sculpt, adds an even greater gravity to the soles of our shoes when we take that leap into the unrevealed abyss.

We need to accept that many of our unfinished chapters will be written in ink, without the benefit of easily erased edits. Although that concept can be a terrifying prospect to process, perhaps the additional heft could serve more as a gentle reminder than a shouldered burden.

Anything worth the risk is worth the rumination.

Don’t necessarily forgo the dive…but check the water depth before you commit to the cause.

Adolescence Interrupted

A Very Merry Variant

Turning calendar pages and looking forward to a future without daily reminders that humanity is on the verge of annihilation…a hopeful, tasty dish dashed when another one of Mother Nature’s tireless foot soldiers brought heavy artillery to our collective knife fight.

With each lap around that big, bright glowing ball spinning well outside our stratosphere, we meager humans are given the opportunity to take a momentary inventory of our most burning existential quandaries. Do we continue to plod along like obedient ants, resting in the rut of routine and ritual? Do we finally unsheathe the bats and clubs and take a swing for the fences drawing the border between our inclination toward convention and our dreams? Or do we burn the playbook altogether, eschewing any semblance of strategy, and watch those chips land however and wherever they please?

Regardless of the size of the soaring stacks sitting proudly at our opponent’s hands, there’s always the chance that an ace will show its face. We cannot predict the unpredictable, and crystal balls are often crying out for cleaning. History books aren’t written in the moment, so some distance, time, and perspective are prerequisites to fill the pages of this tome.

Any advice to sit back, relax, and watch the wolf blow your house apart is understandably met with resistance. But there’s no room for oxygen when your lungs are full of seawater. We simply have to wait out the wave.

May this year be an unreserved aversion to the new normalcy. May we travel upstream to investigate what’s intentionally being dumped at the top to kill us at the bottom. May we finally care enough to strike a balance on this planet before the scales are so tilted we all slide into the fire. May we hold tightly to what matters most and preserve those fleeting flickers of hope sparkling in the distant dark.

May tomorrow always be a little bit better than today.

Adolescence Interrupted