“Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence, a time of confidences
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories, they’re all that’s left you”
Bookends
Two days ago the table I write on was devoid of paper but this evening it has accumulated several piles that make me think of snow drifts.
I might prefer that because it wouldn’t feel like I was surrounded by clutter and perhaps it might assist my AC with the 100 degree weather of the Texas summer.
But given I come from a people of the desert and summer is my favorite time of year it is probably best there is no sign that in a few months the days will grow shorter and the weather will turn.
This time of year always feels strange to me. It reminds me of my days as a camper and a counselor at the summer camp I grew up at.
Reminds me of walking through the streets of Jerusalem and nights in Tel Aviv and makes me think about the first few weeks of going back to college.
I can picture sitting on the balcony at the pub on campus with a group of fraternity brothers. A couple of pitchers of beer on the table, girls in bikinis at the pool below. It always felt like life had endless possibilities.
Oftentimes it still does but there are moments where it feels quite different. Moments where I can’t forget about all that has happened between October 7 and now.
Moments where I wonder how the country put a felon back in office and how many still make excuses for his attacks on democracy.
I look at it all and think about how my children and grandchildren will still be dealing with some of the fall out from all this after I am gone.
It has me thinking about the choices that have to be made and the guy who told me I have to make a choice between death and morality.
I reject his binary choice. I reject his ignorance and his failure to recognize the impossible situation that he ignores.
Better to be hated and alive than dead and missed is still an accurate assessment of some aspects of all that is going on. But it doesn’t mean I am not aware hard, very uncomfortable choices have to be made.
Much of that is painful but choosing death is rarely the better and or more noble choice.
You Gave Me The Scissors
Thought again about the some of the people who are no longer in my life and considered whether I ought to reach out. Considered whether that would be the right thing to do and whether my anger/sadness would allow for it.
Stared at a picture and muttered “you gave me the scissors” and asked myself why I didn’t reach out when I had my liver biopsy.
Looked out the window at black sky and asked myself what I would do if I was in desperate need of help or had been found terminal.
I didn’t have a definitive answer. I am built for the storm and for dancing in the fire. I am built to take on things that are very hard, complex and challenging. I am built to take a beating.
This isn’t a humble brag or an attempt to curry favor. It is an acknowledgement of who I am and also me saying I accepted that being able to do this is not a good reason to engage in any of it.
The ability to take the pain isn’t a reason to let a beating be rendered upon you. If you are going to get beat there ought to be a better reason than taking it just because you can.
We call that growth and say that the phone/email works both way. They may have given me the scissors but that might also mean they chose to use it too.
Sometimes you never get the closure you want or need you move on because it is the only way you heal.
The Fire Burns
Flashback a decade or more to a gym in the San Fernando Valley. A group of us are playing a game of pickup ball that is momentarily interrupted when the ball gets stuck between the rim and backboard.
It is the only ball we have and none of us are capable of jumping high enough to tap it free. There is a pad on the pole the backboard is attached to and that gives me an idea.
I take a few steps back and then fun at the pole and slam into it. The guys start laughing and tell me not to hurt myself. I smile and say not to worry about it and hit the pole again.
It shakes pretty good just as it does the first time and they tell me to give it a rest. “Josh, that thing isn’t coming down.”
I smile and hit it one more time from a slightly different angle and a little bit harder. This knocks the ball loose and I get a couple of high fives and a few head shakes.
“You know you are crazy.”
“No, not crazy. Determined and aware sometimes it takes a few tries to make things happen. Got a fire in the belly that doesn’t quit.”
Sometimes I think about that moment and others and remind myself the smart Taurus knows when to use his horns, when to use his muscle and when to just lie in the field enjoying the warmth of the sun upon his back.
If you want to catch upon on prior posts you can click here. In the interim I’ll be listening to Boys of Summer while I gaze upon the stars and ponder the future.
See you later.
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