The Conundrum Of Fresh Starts

Some people won’t appreciate seeing Frodo go with Gandalf across the sea and or understand its bittersweet nature, but I do.

I always figured it is because I have spent some time dancing in the fire and have been placed again in one of those moments where I remind myself that I am built to last.

Two years in to the great challenge I stand upon the tower and try to ascertain whether our current course is right into the cliffs or just through stormy waters.

The cliffs would be bad because the task is far from done and the damage of the collision wouldn’t be enough to cause death but the destruction would be severe and I don’t want to rebuild…again.

So the idea that I could hop on the ship with Gandalf and Frodo is attractive.

The Conundrum Of Fresh Starts

I am a man who doesn’t particularly like change but I have had quite a bit of it and in some ways become an expert at managing it.

The agony of anticipation of what it will be like alongside the hope of it being exceptional fits into the conundrum of fresh starts.

That sense that it won’t be as bad as I fear nor as good as I hope ebbs and flows inside the tide we call the mind.

Some moments are punctuated by the simplicity of knowing that I have a perfect record of surviving every bad day and that I have seen what happens when lightning strikes.

I have known moments of perfection and moments of horror.

August.

August will always hold examples of both.

August 2011 and August 2013–not the full month of either but a part or parts of them remind me of perfect moments and some that are less so.

And in one of the gifts of time and age I can promise you August 2013 is easy to recall whereas 2011 I have to think about.

Perfection wins out over horror.

That is a good thing.

The simple and ordinary moment that became extraordinary is forever a part of me.

One Day At A Time

The high school kid on the bench next to mine is working with 90 pounds more than I am and it is grinding on my nerves.

There is a part of me that wants to get up and throw another 45 on each side.

It is the part that doesn’t accept we aren’t who we once were and that rushing to try to get back to that place is foolish.

I hear him whisper that we ought to do more.

“Add one more 45 and one 25 per side, plus three reps and you’ll show yourself that you haven’t lost as much as you suspect.”

It is tempting.

Two weeks of lifting daily and I am starting to notice some subtle changes, maybe enough to do what the voice says.

But the older and wiser part of me says to take it one day at a time and to build our way back. Build a foundation that is solid and less likely to be damaged by small fractures and fissures.

For a moment I wonder if the voice is going to win, but it doesn’t. Instead I add two smaller plates to the sides and do a couple more sets.

Upon completion I am grateful for not giving into stupidity and ego as my arms and chest feel fatigued.

****

We’re back in our separate corners debating what must happen and why.

I am pushing hard for acceptance and understanding of my position.

“Just listen and accept that there is wisdom and a logical rationale for doing this. Don’t think of it as being huge, it is one day at a time.”

I know I have been heard but I don’t know if I am going to be listened to and won’t until things happen or don’t.

I remind myself that this is like lifting and I need to take it one day at a time, but it is hard…so very hard.

Apple Pay & Running

I used to hate the Stairmaster.

Something about that giant monstrosity and the idea of walking an endless cycle of stairs bothered me.

Not sure why, I just know that it did.

Two weeks ago I stared at the beast and heard it roar at me and I knew this time things were going to be different.

This time we would do battle and we have.

Every day I jump on its back and do three minutes.

It is not much, but it is enough to push my pulse into the three digit range.

Enough for me to believe that doing it every day will lead to good things and that if I take it one day at a time I will reach a point where I can go running on it…maybe.

*****

Upon completion of my workout I took a deep breath and moved from listening to an Iron Maiden playlist to something far calmer.

Took a slow walk to the nearby grocery store to purchase a few items for dinner and remembered I didn’t have any cash or cards with me.

But it didn’t matter because I had my phone and Apple Pay.

Hell if that wasn’t ridiculously simple and easy–convenient even.

I paid using my iPhone and then called Scotty and asked him to beam me up.

I am a 25th century man.

A 25th century man who is going to need to call upon some 20th century skills and tricks for what is about to come.

Mr. Toad is climbing into the driver’s seat again and it is going to take some doing to manage it all, but there are no alternatives so manage it I will.

Sunset breaks and the soul goes searching, roaming through a night sky in search of.

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