Life is hard. Really hard. And just when you start to find some inner peace, reasoning with yourself, telling that little son of a bitch voice in the back of your head to shut the hell up, as soon as you finally conquer negativity, you get sucker punched right in the gut all over again.
But who am I to complain? Most of the heartache I've experienced over the past few years has come from the loss and grief I watch others carry.
I love my friends. I love my family. I hate to see them suffer. I want to help. I want to save them all.
Just like Clark Kent.
Cause no matter how "super" he is, he will never be perfect. Although stronger than a locomotive, he's still a single being. He is where he is. One place at a time. Dumb analogy? Maybe, I don't care. It's working for me right now.
Kent wrestles with the burden of perfection. It's what makes him great, more than super. It makes him relatable. It makes him real.
But perfection was never the goal. Kent wants to be just, to be fair, to be selfless and kind. To be humble. This truly represents his "super" power. He struggles, but keeps on moving forward, quietly, in disguise, saving one sinking school bus at a time. I remember admiring his effort to accept and push through inner turmoil. Still do.
Thank you, Christopher Reeve.
I see this quality in my wife, my family, my best friends, my favorite professional partners and colleagues. I want this for myself. Unfortunately my perfectionism gets in the way.
If only I could fly.
Like really fly.
To be free.
I'm sure we all feel this way deep down. Fortunately, something clicked. I started reading a new book, a memoir by Philip Knight. I can't put it down. You know, those moments when the words on the page seem to actually surface from your soul.
You're reading, but it feels more like thinking or remembering. And even though the words aren't your memories, it still feels like you were there, like you're still there, all at once.
I promise, I'm not stoned. I'm still currently on a plane and that would be illegal, federally.
I'm also delirious, work has been crazy, travel has been heavy. Been on the clock since 6:00am, it's now 11:58pm, and I'm just about to land. Had to leave Rachel behind on the last shoot because of a family emergency.
Just flew from Florida to Raleigh.
Miss her so much.
At least I got a window seat on yesterday's flight to take a few ocean pics.
Lately it feels like I've been in the air more than I've been on the ground.
But seriously. This book I'm reading, that book you're reading, the one you just read, or maybe it's a song, a movie, a play, a conversation. There's a reason we connect, a reason we want to connect.
We are not only ourselves, we are each other. We're a part of the same universe. It's in our DNA. We care, we want to help. We want to stay connected.
Where am I going with all of this? Who knows. I'm tired. So tired. My knee hurts. It's got a metal plate and a few screws holding it together. But my heart hurts even more, and it had to bleed a little through these words.
Life is so damn fragile.
So if you read this, if you kept on digging through my stream of consciousness, you care about how I'm feeling. That means the world to me. Thank you for that, life has been so challenging lately. I can't even imagine how hard it's been, how hard it must still be for the ones I love who face death with a broken heart and a devastated soul. I want so badly to fix it, to save them.
I wish I could fly like Kent.