There's never nothing going on

Ever been on a break? Whether selected or imposed, I have been on a few. From events over the past year to ones recently I have found that perceptively things have been quiet–real quiet. In my life I find when I am inspired, I will take a moment to digest and reflect and then put pen to paper (or finger to plastic) and counsel myself with what I have gained. Not so much lately. It seemed like life took an intermission.

I would frequently log onto my blog page, wait for some inspiration, shake my head and say “nah”, and move on to other meaningless online diversions. It lies somewhere between boredom and having nothing worthwhile to say. Worse yet, that no one listens or no one cares.

It also became interesting–frightening at times that it seemed the messages stopped. I would find I would squint with furrowed brow trying to connect–it was like I had an old radio and was listening to the static waiting for a broken hello. Nothing.

Inspiration seemed to go “off the air”. Okay, maybe that is harsh–but at least like television in summer when all you had to watch were re-runs.

Don’t get me wrong. Just because the universe, nature, and God above don’t appear before me in a dog and pony show, I do not become ungrateful. Things just slowed down–like a long drive on cruise control.

Therein lies the lesson.

There is never nothing going on.

I find for me at times I must release the pedal and set my speed on cruise to get a reminder of the things that surround me continually. It is by slowing down that I get another chance to find the glory in the mundane.

By taking some of the same routes at different speeds–without the pressure of waiting for the “golden ah-ha’s”, I find that some of these lie within my own backyard. It is also these little awakenings that connect the big ones. The big ones simply remind us to remember the small ones.

I just returned from a bike ride at dusk with my son. We took a different route and ended up at the coffee shop where I secured a fresh pound of fresh ground. Nothing like the aroma of your favorite blend. I inhaled deeply and smiled.

The cool breeze from nature and gentle humming from my son accompanied me as we took the long way home. The long way via the counter of our favorite frozen custard shop. We passed my daughter’s friends on their bikes. Well-mannered hellos were exchanged. Dusk, crickets, and the breeze in the trees. Your neighborhood changes dramatically at various times of the day. Each more glorious than the next.

“Did you have fun buddy?” I asked as we pulled into the garage to park our bikes.

An enthusiastic, “Yeah!!” was the reply.

There’s never nothing going on. Maybe I just need to set my speed on cruise control–or maybe hop on my bike. Perhaps it’s all God’s way of saying slow down and smell the coffee.

In Hindsight

I realize the effort to defend my ego is a lot bigger than the effort to simply keep quiet. I also find that in either case, I can be equally incorrect.

I have found that when in my younger years, if someone said, “Here, try this”–and it was not a yummy treat, it probably was not in my best interest.

Every challenge always pays off– Always. You just have to realize that in hindsight.

The things I thought made me feel cool then, often make me feel silly now.

I would have never gotten that perm if I could have seen my senior picture beforehand. (See previous.)

Some of your best friendships do not end–they go into hibernation.

Whatever people feel they need to take drugs for can be achieved without them.

The best title I have ever held is “Daddy.” (And that it took my wife to achieve this title–and still does.)

Upon reflection, when we say we were “born this way”– that should only pertain to the good stuff. The rest we learned.

Being a loser is someone else’s opinion that I do not have to agree with.

I can understand and be compassionate to something without agreeing with it.

Kids and golf can be the most fun you will ever have being pissed off.

God would never forsake me, I would forsake God. (God waited for my return.)

It is okay to love someone and they not love you back–just don’t do it on their property after dark.

I should have listened more to what I didn’t want to listen to.

I also should have kept my mouth shut a lot more.

Most of the worst stuff I feared I created. (Often it would never arrive.)

I see that most of the stuff that I spent most of my time trying to get; I no longer have, and no longer need.

I also see that most of what I ever needed was always there, I was too busy looking in the wrong places.

Wounds heal.

Love returns. (Not that it ever really goes away.)

You can’t be totally present always looking back in hindsight.