Out With the Old
Out With the Old
Having turned my nose up, at an early age, to the snobbery of class consciousness, I chose a lifestyle of flirting with privileged poverty. Noodling on high notes, over the heavy base lines of theology and science, I learned to orchestrate and harmonize in complementary colors. Thirteen notes and three colors create worlds of beauty. Your life is painted in the tones and hues of your choice. It’s your opus.
When I was a kid, I had summertime friends, that were visiting Amelia Island the same as myself. One particular summer there was a family, from Atlanta staying three houses down. There was the mother, two sisters and a brother. They were probably there only two weeks at a time, but back then the days were long and two weeks seemed like forever.
None of these kids ever surfed with me but we did do things like, look for sea shells and spends hours chasing each other around on the beach. I always did love to run.
But right now, I am remembering one of the sisters telling me about casting a bottle out into the ocean. The idea was to write a message, put a contact address on it and see what happened. She had done this before and actually had someone write to her from someplace, that seemed like far away. I was told that my bottle could possibly drift to China.
I thought about that bottle that I never threw. I imagined it moving along the ocean floor, heading to some exotic destination. But, for some reason I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. What if someone did find the bottle? What if they wrote back? What would I say? I was paralyzed by the “what ifs”.
Writing this blog has that same feeling. But today I’m not paralyzed. I’m motivated. I want to inspire myself, if no one else.
My car is still not fixed and it looks like it will be Tuesday before I get to hit the waves.
Until then I will walk on the beach. Exercise and staying tranquillo are important.
In retrospect I see how some things don’t change. My life is locked in like a cartesian point. I am by the beach, not surfing today, but being with friends and hanging out on the beach, checking out the shells and the driftwood.
I’m tossing out my message. Who knows where it will land? Who cares?
The important thing is that I did it!
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