What Kind Of Warrior Would You Be?

It is the day after my surgery and I am doing my best to follow my doctor’s orders to rest and allow my body to heal but that doesn’t mean I have to stop thinking.

Or maybe it is more accurate to say since I can’t do what I want to do now I have been given the gift of time to think.

In between the few naps I have taken, the Olympic events I have watched and the moments where I have gotten up to walk I have found myself lost in thoughts about a variety of things.

You might say the premise of some of those can be found in a post I wrote a while back.

Ever Wonder Who You Could Have Been?

Or you might skip the post and hear me say I can hear the tick-tock of life’s clock inside my head and it is a big part of what is pushing me to do all I can to live now and to keep moving towards the future I want to have.

The goal is to do as Mr. Swift suggests below.


What Kind Of Warrior Would You Be?

I may be 47 but there is a little boy who lives inside who wonders what kind of warrior we could be.

He wants to know what would happen if you gave us a sword and told us to hold the gate.

Sometimes I want to pat him on the head and tell him not to worry because I know the castle is built so that defenders don’t have to fight more than one or two people at a time so as long as we stand no one shall pass.

But then I look down at the bandage on my belly and ask myself if I believe it to be true.

I stare in the mirror and demand an honest answer based upon the current level of discomfort and pain and wonder if I could swing the sword and raise the shield.

The answer is always yes because experience has shown me I know how to do what is required and I figure with the Adrenalin rush that comes with battle I probably wouldn’t feel any pain.

But then late I lie down in bed and think about how silly I must look because I can’t just roll over and get on my feet.

I imagine I must look like a turtle that has been flipped upside down and try to slip, flop and slide my way off.

That is the sort of reality check that makes you realize you might be mighty in battle one day and find yourself quite the opposite upon the next.

The Hard Part

Sometimes my daughter tries to tease me about my age.

“Dad, you are almost 50. You should be careful not to hurt yourself.”

I always laugh and tell her that I am not 50 and 50 isn’t old.

She doesn’t really believe me and who can blame her, when I was 12 I thought anyone who was older than 25 was ancient.

Nor do I tell her I hate the idea of losing the ability to take care of myself the way I want to.

I am not talking about not being able to do everything I could do when I was 19 or even 25 because age will take some things away from us.

Rather I am referring to not being able to do the basic stuff, walk, run, lift, move etc.

Given that it is harder to do some of those things now and that I am prohibited from lifting more things that weigh more than 10 pounds I can’t help but think about it a little bit.

Can’t help but think about how this is the time to heal and then push myself to create a better foundation for the future.

There is no reason why I can’t be mobile, agile and physically fit for the rest of my life. No reason why I have to let time have its way with me.

We can’t control everything that happens to or around us but we can manage how we plan, react and respond.

So that is my plan, to manage those things and to figure out how to deal with the hard part of not being able to lift stuff now.

Not a fan of sitting back and letting others do the simple stuff for me.

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