Damek.

I think this is the year. I’m finally tired of playing around. I know what I want to do, to be, to have — I want to finally start doing, being, and having some of it.

Over and over again in my life, I’ve found myself facing fears about the future not ending up the way I’d hoped. Fears about the choices I’ve made turning out to be the wrong ones. Fears about things happening I won’t be able to recover from.

But the worst feeling of all is the sense of loss over chances not taken, weakness displayed instead of confidence — the sense that an opportunity is passing too quickly and that you weren’t able to make the most of it.

And that feeling comes even when you are trying to make the most of it, as obstacles and delays arise, and patience for other people stretches thin. And you worry that the confidence and strength came too late. And the trust & patience & hope turns into despair that things are going to just slip away…

And I’m not a controller, or a player, or a manipulator. It’s not who I am. However, neither am I passive and meek. I’m simply open, with an honest heart, and confident that if I just keep putting my cards on the table, good will come.

It’s important to remember the world is not full of opportunities for me, but that sometimes I am an opportunity for others. Here I am. Take my hand if you will. I promise my best. I’ll tell you what I want and what I can do, and then it’s up to you, ok?

It doesn’t help that it’s winter and my thoughts more easily slip into a profound sense of loss and sadness. I watched another episode of Planet Earth last night and the beauty and grandeur set my soul ringing, but with a sort of hollow tone, an emptiness for all the wonder that is that I’ll never see, and even more, all the wonder that is that most people don’t care about, don’t enjoy, don’t even want to see.

I’m reading Teacher Man by Frank McCourt, and his stories about his life and the joys and the sorrows fill me again with a hollow resonating pain, mostly for the things he tells me that I should have known already, and the fear that I’m still not learning it now.

I’ve lived enough to know I keep learning some of the same lessons over and over again. Because I’m not paying attention. Well, I’ve started paying attention.