Tuesday, May 29, 2007
They have no choice but to wait until they can fly . . . but you know what they do when they fly? They fly. Away. And when that day comes, I'll still be here. Where I am. Airborne as a rock.
I don't want to complain. I'm not eating worms. I don't have to sleep under the deck (it's really kind of shoddy). I'm warm-blooded. There are a billion other things I like about being me. But I'm sorely afraid of heights. I would like not to be. And these birds hold the secret.
Yeah, yeah, I know, you figured it out. They're not afraid of heights because they can fly. But what you may not know is the reason I'm afraid of heights.
When I am somewhere high . . . say, seven stories up, looking out a window at the street below. I'm not afraid of what would happen when I hit the ground. I'm not even afraid of falling. One of my goals is to go skydiving. I think it would be a blast. It's not the falling. It's not the landing. It's the helplessness. I'm afraid of heights because they make me painfully aware that once I fall, I can't do anything to change what happens next. If I had a parachute, I could pull the cord to release it. If I had wings, I could flap them.
But as I am . . . there's nothing I can do, if I fall.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Much dreaming and many words are meaningless. Therefore stand in awe of God.
If you don't know how this applies to me, you don't know me very well.
Okay, seeking God: working on it. Cutting down on TV: no problem now that season finales are almost over. (Total cop out, but still . . . )
Next up: time to kick the comfort habit.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Addison's first game is this Saturday. At that point, there's no turning back. He'll be an official competitor. You can see it in his eyes . . . his lust for victory is unquenchable already, and they only just scrimmaged. Here's how it happened: he launched the opening kick, the other team got the ball, drove the ball down the field and scored. Addison then headed to the sidelines and proclaimed, "I won!"
Absolutely indefatigable. He actually did almost score a goal . . . dribbled the length of the field, dove on the ball, and threw it into the goal from his knees. And we're just talking about practice. We're a breath away from World Cups, shoe deals, and marrying into the Beckham spice family. I'm so not ready for this.