I marvel at the creativity and imagination of children. In the absence of gadgets, electronics and the like, the younger ones still manage to find something interesting, even if it involves playing with an empty box. They see castles and dragons; and rescue damsels in distress. They traverse mountains, soar with eagles, and hit the game winning homerun. It so simple. Yet beautifully creative.
I use this description, tongue in cheek, when I think of my good friend, Brad. We’ve known each other for a number of years, but when we first met, I found that he had a pretty interesting hobby. At first, I thought it a bit strange. But as I got to know my friend, I came to understand it. In fact, when we traveled together, I began to expect it. Because you see, my friend Brad, has an affinity for the past.
A while back, I spent a weekend with a very special group of people. Who they were and why they had assembled isn’t important. I wasn’t one of them, but I grew up witnessing their struggle. They were there to celebrate and I was honored to be among them. And while the celebration was underscored with pomp and fanfare, having the appropriate doses of laughs and hilarity, more importantly it carried an underlying theme of personal responsibility.
I used to travel for business. It seemed almost weekly. At first, I thought it was kind of cool. But it dragged on until it it just became work. It exacted a toll, a price, that some are willing to pay. And, I willingly paid it. But I often ask myself if what I received in return was worth the investment.