Today time is not my friend nor colleague. It is an adversary who I deem to be an enemy combatant and we are locked in mortal combat. There are things going on in my life personally and professionally that are very difficult. Some are quite painful and I find myself wincing, grimacing and groaning from the effort to take them on. I am unsettled, restless, anxious and concerned.
So I come here to my Fortress of Solitude and look in my cyber mirror at a tired face and wonder what will happen. Some of these things are a long time coming and I can’t say that they will be bad things. I can’t look at them and automatically assume that they will have a negative impact upon us. But I can’t say that the impact will be positive either. And that uncertainty is why I feel unsettled.
Change can be very good but it can also be very hard.
I keep listening to a collection of songs:
The words and the music wash over me and I think about what has transpired. Eyes closed I paint the picture I want to see and think about how to make it so.
Last night my body failed me. I was out playing ball with the boys and my legs had no lift. Posting up beneath the basket against a smaller man my back refused to give me what it always has in the past. Every time I went up I felt something pull. But a stubborn man I am and I kept pushing, unwilling to accept that I couldn’t do it.
It was a bitter pill to swallow- the realization that it wasn’t going to happen. I couldn’t turn the clock back. I couldn’t find the moment. I played through it and finished the game. Got back up and played two more. But each time I ran out there I was less than I was before and I walked off the court earlier than I normally would.
Today I feel the aftermath of the battles. It is no worse than normal. Nothing some stretching won’t help and maybe some Ibuprofen. I don’t think that what happened last night means that I can’t play anymore either. But it probably means that I need to make another adjustment to my game. Â It means that my fragile male ego has to accept that another piece of my youth is being taken from me.
But if I want to teach my children to be accountable than I have to be accountable to me. If I want to teach them to forgive than I have to forgive me. The taste of failure is sometimes bitter and I am not very fond of mistakes either, but it is what it is.