Life, or something like it.

This is really kind of strange. Here I finally have made time and provided myself with an outlet for writing, yet the words that normally flow so smoothly for me seem to disappear when I put the computer on my lap. I can always think of topics when I’m in the shower in the morning, or while driving to work, anytime that I can’t actually write down what I was thinking. Why is that, I wonder?

Earlier this week I was going to rant about political correctness but when I was done writing it sounded more like whining than a logical discourse on the extremes people will go to in order to avoid offending a small group of people. I usually try to stay away from political topics; there are plenty of people out there willing to cover all ends of politics. I see no reason to piss people off by adding to the noise.

Next thought was a nostalgic trip through the mid-80’s. While driving to work a song came on the radio that reminded me of a fun time in Junior High with Jenni Davis, Monique Renne, and Danielle Bird. So many memories of mine from that time are fuzzy at best but that one stuck in my head, mainly because of the audio recording I used to have of it. Listening to that song and remembering that spring day made me almost wish to be that kid again. Then I remembered other things, like being accused by my friends of stealing Shannon’s watch during volleyball practice. I’m still not sure why they thought I was the one who had done it, but life was not fun for a while until something else distracted everyone from coming down on me.

My point in the paragraph above? Sometimes we choose to remember only the good times, to the point where we see that time as golden. Really, there are good times and bad times at every age in our lives. What makes the difference is where you choose to direct your focus. I choose to remember the fun times from my childhood but not to the point where I wish to go back to it. I’m happy being the age I am. 40 may not be perfect but it is the coolest age I’ve gotten to so far. If 40 is this cool, I can’t image what waits for me at 50, 60, 70, 80. You get the point.

Life is good if we choose to live it. Memories of the past can be good as long as we just remember them, not live in them. The future is bright as long as we want it to be.