And Things We're All Too Young to Know...

So, I know it's been a good long time since I've written anything here. I could spout off several of the standby "I've been busy excuses" and follow them up with some actual examples of how jam-packed things have been since I wrote about being a child and speaking for the trees.

The simple fact of the matter is this: I've been looking for a way to write what I've been experiencing and asking myself lately, and I've drawn a complete blank. Sometimes, there's plenty of ink, but the shapes you scratch it into just don't get the point across.

Then, last night at around 2am, I had a "moment of inspiration." After my directing gig, I've spent a lot of time unwinding and getting my brain cleared of constant bombarding with information, decisions, and plans...doing my favorite things: listening to music, watching movies, reading, looking for beautiful and meaningful things. Well, last night, I heard a song that released the flood of dammed ideas that I had been reaching for.

Allow me to suggest a thought to you for a moment: Think of some of your favorite songs. Not just songs whose tune you like that you can't quite get out of your head once they're there; no, those songs that defined moments of your life...songs that touched you deeply. Can you remember where you first heard them? Under what circumstances? Perhaps it was in a movie or television show...perhaps you heard snippets of it over the radio...or maybe you heard it live. However this took place, I imagine that you will find yourself able to recreate that scenario fairly faithfully in your mind's eye. Because music is such a joyful constant in my life, I have many moments like these. And in many cases, I could describe the impact to you, but in this case, I won't--not because it would cheapen it, but because I don't want to define this experience for you the way it is for me...because it's yours. You get to define it.

So, in my life many things are steadily changing. I'm getting older, obviously, but the circumstances of my life and those around me have been changing imperceptibly over the course of about 5 years that I barely recognize the old for the new in life around me. The things that once mattered so much are barely mentioned, and things that I had little knowledge of now consume my daily life and define the next steps. This appears to be true of everyone around me.

I think the most obvious example of all of this is the diverging pathways the friends in my life are taking. Many have married; some have children, and some still are in that blissful, exciting, scary, glorious stage of expecting their first child (or in some cases, grandchild). I find it awesome (and note that I'm using the word the way it was meant to be used...I am in true awe and wonder by this series of events) that my generation is birthing and raising the next generation. We are in the process of contributing our verses to the epic poem that is the Family of Man. I can't sufficiently describe the feeling. But I do know this--in my lifetime I have seen some amazing things, and before I die, I know I will see even more. But, even as a young man, I know that no man-made wonder will leave me quite as awestruck as seeing the breathing, moving being that was conceived and born by those I care about.

It's funny sometimes that we lament how ordinary our lives are--how mundane--how normal. Consider this--the simple fact that you are alive right now in the circumstances that you are in is about as statistically impossible as any great miracle. Genetic material too complex to properly number came together to create every detail that is you, and since then, every choice that you have made has in some way nudged you towards the life you are living right now.

It defies all odds that we know the people we know.

It is beyond all probability that our lives are what they are.

Those who are not members of our genetic family probably came into our lives by some small decision which led to another, which led to another, which at some point was a large decision, and then here we are. A single decision with a separate outcome might have completely altered a significant relationship.

I have mentioned in the past how it makes me somewhat sad that those who were closest to me at certain points of my life have fallen fairly out of touch at some point or another. Yes, it is true that there are some points in my life that I wish I could bottle and relive whenever I like. Perfect days--terrible, wonderful...all of them. And in a way, I can. I've been blessed with the kind of memory that can draw back to myself those days where all was beautiful and easy.

But as of late, I'm less saddened that those closest to me have lost touch a bit. They are not forgotten, and they are not gone. What's happened instead is that their dance has led them to points where the things that we agonized over are not so important (just like in my life), and new priorities have given way. They are husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, doctors, lawyers, teachers, soldiers, engineers.

Although I want very much to experience my life with all those who made it what it is, I am wildly happy that they are able to experience exciting new avenues in their own lives. And if not having the time to always keep in the closest touch with me allows them in some small way to expand their own life experiences, I am perfectly contented with that. Each of these people, although many are not blood-related, are my family. Nothing in the world can undo that, and I know that being a little out of touch isn't the worst thing, because it is by no means a permanent circumstance. For me, there is always great joy in just seeing the people who I care so deeply for--even for a few minutes. I don't hurt so much because I see in them a bit of the same realization (whether conscious or not) that there is great value in moving onward--and great value in occasionally looking back.

I'm thankful that God has seen fit to defy all probability in making my life what it is. I know that it is, in its way, a miracle that it happened at all. I would not change a decision, foolish or wise, and I would not erase a single person, no matter how much their presence may have slowed what I perceived to be my progress. It's all working out--and it's all well-ordered, and in its way...perfect.

So, when I get tangled up, I'll tango on. And I'm sure, from time to time, I'll see you there.

I sure hope so.