A Story About A Dream

There is a SodaStream about 15 feet in front of me that I won in a contest. A half dozen different flavors sit near it and every one of them make me smile.

They remind me of the old Seltzer bottles my grandfather used to have, you know, the kind you saw the Marx Brothers and Three Stooges use.

My father the gadget lover would have loved this too.

I don’t always add a flavor, sometimes I make my own plain Seltzer and enjoy a cold drink. Sometimes I think about life and sometimes I think about nothing at all.

Sometimes I grab that glass and remember visiting my great-grandparents in apartment buildings that had elevators that required your pulling a metal grate across the opening.

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Today I stood in the backyard and engaged in deeper introspection as I always do this time of year because that is what the time between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur has become for me.

A moment to think hard about what life looks like and what I want it to resemble. Thought about some things I wrote a while back and how they resemble the present in ways I never expected.

That’s What Drives Me

Emily’s quote sums up what drives me, “I tasted life” and now I want to be able to take more bites of the magic sandwich and lose myself in deep breaths of air that smells like home.

Break it down further and I am driven by what happens when you experience things where you took flight.

So I look for the possibilities to turn into opportunity to fly again and get a chance to determine my wings are made of wax or perhaps something more durable.

That is what drives me, this faith that I already know the answer and just require confirmation.

I am open to the possibility of being wrong and or having misjudged or mischaracterized some of the moments that led me here.

Got to take some calculated risks if you want the reward.

That might not mean what you think it means, or maybe it does.