There are days when I walk with purpose, confidence, and a sense of individuality, often finding myself a strong leader. While the next, casually willing to hang back and be more of an observer. There are even some occasions when it barely seems possible to climb out from the front seat of my vehicle. It always comes down to the relationship between anticipation and waiting. Yesterday, my nerves were raging out of control like the hormones within a teen boy.
Soley by prospect, two individuals who needed a third partner for their learning group waved me over to join their team. One of them was older, and the other was much younger than the two of us. As it comes to age-written receipts, there was a small collection of them surrounding a life novice and a much larger bounty circling the aura of a seasoned veteran on this journey. Regardless of birth year, flanking either side of me at any given time was a perfect representation of perspective. (For those who have been following my writing for quite some time now, you know how much I love that word and finding unique ways to apply it to current circumstances).
Matt is the name of the young man with whom I quickly sized up in a refreshingly innocent type of way. He was uneasy in his conversation, understandingly so, as I would estimate to have been almost thirty years his senior. Eventually, Matt came around after viewing me as just another person, one with whom circumstance might have hand-selected to introduce him. He was very young and spoke about his short time here and his aspirations for his future. Fortune was at his disposal to lasso. His thoughts were unique, and his views on his dreams, too, were plentiful. It had been refreshing to listen on as the rainbow in his eyes was vast and still attainable. He reminded me of myself a million years ago, it was nice to get that nudge again to realize how I once considered my own existence.
George was his extreme counterpart. He was a small in stature seasoned man who possessed a renewed sense of energy and zest towards his life gift. He had been given a second chance after receiving the fateful warning of his own expiration in the form of a specific sudden heart attack, more commonly known as the widowmaker. He shared his story with me about this shockingly sudden unforeseen event. He was pretty fortunate to be here, and he knew it. No different to Matt, he was in the throes of living to the fullest a bountiful new set of possibilities. The globe, too, was his oyster now. He was all about enjoying each new sunrise and creating unknown pleasures. I could relate more to George in some ways, but not to the level of his visceral realization of mortality.
Though separated by the ticking of a clock, unified by unfulfilled goals, each man strove to make the most of his unique journey. Two different sets of circumstances yet overlapping in commonality. As I had initially found myself uneasy and nervous, the emotions quickly waned being surrounded by such rich company. A schooling moment had been upon me. It took but a casual glance in either direction to be reminded; youth is meant to be boundless, while wisdom learned through decades too can still provide the fuel for more memories to be designed. It is all about the willingness to keep on appreciating. Our opportunities are ongoing; they are beautiful regardless of where we are in our journey.
Though everyone has a story, it never means the book cannot continue to be written as we get older either. There are second chances. Hope is not time-bound, nor are the endless possibilities to wake up one day with a heartiness to consume more from our days here on this earth. As human beings, we can overconsume when it comes to discovery, happiness, and fulfillment. Never believe otherwise. Particularly on your darkest day. Age is a number possibility can not comprehend.
It’s ironic as time gently whispered in my ear how the complex evolution of life memories constantly flashed back in my mind while listening to the stories told by others. You never know when the fair chance to pause and reflect shall strike. Sometimes with a smile, other times with a tear. However, I guess the person willing to be unexpectedly vulnerable shall always be declared the wiser.
Funny how it took a chance meeting with perfect strangers to see behind closed eyes again just how wonderful this gift truly is.
Tomorrow should always be a great day, “thank you” Matt and George for the reminder.