It’s been a tough week. It’s been a tough month. Actually, it’s been a very tough year.
I’ve been away from the fire far too long and last night it got to me. I was reading on Facebook about all the people I know and some I don’t about their experiences at The Jack. I’m happy for everyone’s success, but the walks didn’t keep my attention. What made me melancholy were the posts about just being there. The posts about doing something you love with others who share your passion moved me.
Last night at about 2:00 a.m. I was walking across Sheepshead Bay Road. There were no cars on this usually absurdly crowded street and 95% of the businesses were shut for the night. The night air was redolent with the smell of the ocean and the crispness of fall was in the air. As I walked, my mind took me to the hill in Lynchburg, although I’ve never been. There was something in the air and stillness of the evening that reminded me of getting up to check your fires in the predawn morning of competition. All the air needed was the scent of wood smoke and it would have been perfect.
This morning I awake to face the problems and tasks that have plagued me this year. As I plow into another day of drudgery there’s a little glint in my eye and a spring in my step that hasn’t been there in months. Even though I didn’t light a fire, didn’t rub my meat or even eat any food, for a brief instance last night my mind put an end to all this shit and transported me back to my happy place.
I will light a fire today.