Monday, January 02, 2006

You can take a quick look at the old friends who spent new years eve by my side and it's pretty clear that different people have different measures of success. We all grew up in this one tame square mile but we've all blazed very different trails. I, for one, thrive on the unknown. They'll tell you that in 2006 there is no far away. That you can be anywhere in the world in under 24 hours if you're so inclined. It's all been mapped and charted, photographed by a satellite and digitzed onto some map for your procrastination and amusement. But until they rip up every last piece of history and replace it with a Walmart, a highrise or a McDonalds I say that's there plenty of far away. There is plenty of exploration, plenty of discovery left.

The measure of a truly successful year here at the truth blog is the unexpected, uncharted unknown. Did something happen I never expected? Did I take a chance, seize an opportunity? It's not about making dreams come true. It's about taking that step out past where dreams can take you to find out what's just beyond even your own brain's reach.

2005 was.. well it was another success and another failure. If you would have told me a year ago what was to happen in 12 months I would have giggled with anticipation. Or maybe I was just giggling a year ago because I was in the middle of my first real love. On paper it's pretty. Jobs, women, love lost and found, Los Angeles and all the new sensations I've found followed by one last shot to make it all right. And then I topped it all off by learning to kite surf.

But somewhere in there I lost something important. The unknown is useless without the fire burning inside. Without the hope that somewhere over the horizon lies something that will make the past pale in comparison. It's what makes the changes interesting. I don't know if it was LA or knowing that I would spend my fall in the same place 2 years in a row (for the first time in 5 years) or if it was love lost or truly accepting that my sports dream was better left just that: a dream. I just remember waking up one morning and not wanting to get out of bed....ever. I've traveled, loved, lost and grown. What could possibly be left?

If new places and faces and smells and feelings have taught me anything it's that the shapes of home makes a man whole. But no man should be whole until at least 50 or 60. So here we go 2006. Another chance to find a few more of the millions of things that are left, undiscovered, unturned, and unfulfilled. Each year is one step closer to home.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Excellent post. I hope to read more of your works in the future, and maybe some of your writing prowess will rub off on me. That in turn might make my blog somewhat more of a success. Cheers.

6:27 PM  
Anonymous db said...

hmm. it sounds good, but what about when you get old and you still aren't complete?

9:40 PM  

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