I think we should all be friends

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I was recently asked to become a member of a small community group. I instantly agreed and was invited soon after to attend a meeting with the group. That meeting was yesterday. I can’t say that I look forward to many things nearly as much as I do meeting new people. I get filled with the same kind of excitement as when I am en-route to connect with old friends.

I know that what I’m describing may not be considered normal, but I don’t think it’s all that uncommon either. Not today when so many of us in the business community appear to be drawn to attend the growing number of Indy networking events. We are justified by the semblance of building our professional network, but I think it’s more than that. It is for me. 

I am blessed to have as many opportunities as I do to meet new people and make new friends. I will never take it for granted. 

-Cheers!

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The lake, my morning run, and Stanley

I like to run in the morning. It’s better on the weekends when I have the time to drive to my favorite lake. Even on the coldest and snowiest of mornings, there are always other runners there. Seeing them there helps me feel a little less crazy. 

I ran there yesterday. It was warm and it felt much like an early Spring morning. There were a lot more runners than I’d seen there in recent weeks. My guess is that some were new runners trying to live up to their recently made New Year’s Resolutions. Others might be in the early stages of training for a Spring Mini or Full Marathon.

I was just there because I love to run.

As I finished the first of two loops and ran back up the hill to the parking lot, I ran past a somewhat elderly Asian gentleman with a small dog. He smiled and waved, calling out some greeting that I couldn’t make out. I returned the wave and said good morning as I ran by. His smile seemed to widen. It’s odd, but I swear it only takes a brief moment and a simple exchange for most of us, to know that we just crossed paths with a genuinely likable soul.

As usual, I felt even better on the second loop. So much better in fact, that I pushed really hard up that final hill up to the parking lot. As I got there, I once again saw my new friend. Being out of breath and inspired by his smile, I decided to stop to say hello. He immediately started walking my way, removing his glove to shake my hand and introduce himself. His name is Stanley. “Stanley, like the comic book” he said. I had never heard of the comic book, but I’ve since Googled it of course, and here’s an image from one of the books.Stanley

He proudly explained that he has been visiting the lake at least one day a weekend for over ten years. He used to run, now he walks. He once circled the lake as I do, but has gotten away from that to avoid the hill. It’s just too much for him these days. He began telling stories of bad winter days that kept most people away from the lake, but how others seemed to be drawn out by the weather.

He recalled two doctors that he had met a couple of years ago. They made the  decision to cross the frozen lake against the advice of signs that were posted saying the ice was too thin to ice skate. “They proceeded very cautiously, I’m sure that they were really afraid”. “They had to know better, Why would medical professionals take such a risk?”, he asked. We talked just a short while longer and then said goodbye, wishing each other a good day.

It was a good day full of sharing and spending time with my family and good friends. Once back home and sipping my evening short glass of bourbon, I thought about Stanley, and in particular his questions about the doctors, and the ice, and their seemingly reckless behavior.

Why does anyone do anything? Why do any of us get out of our warm beds and head to that lake or anywhere else when the conditions aren’t “perfect”? 

I know why I’m there. It’s my favorite place to run and my morning run seems directly related to my sanity. Stanley may be there just to meet new people and share stories. The doctors that he mentioned may have felt the need to have some risk in their lives. It may be a nice release from all of the pressure related to their profession. They alone could say for sure. 

There is a lake, a mountain, and the entire universe out there for all of us. It’s ours to explore and enjoy however we desire. There are people that we should meet and stories that need to be shared. We just have to use our intuitive nature to help us navigate through our first step and begin our journey.

Cheers!

Who’s writing this?…..

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I’m excited to begin this diary. As my grandmother used to say “I’m fixin’ to commence to begin”….
I’ll be writing about my days. It’s meant to be worth reading. I will do my best to live up to that. 

My given name wouldn’t tell you much about me. It’s not a reflection of who I am, or why I’m  here. After all, we are only a perpetuation of those that came before us combined with the mirrored effects of our surroundings. For that reason, I  present to you a relative list of pertinent details:

  • Ancestry.com would have you believe that I am a descendant of English Royalty. 
  • Once in America, my family settled in the south. We were politicians, plantation owners, farmers and bee keepers.
  • The earliest records in America show that my ancestors were politically affluent members in colonial Virginia. Others are from areas in West Virginia, Kentucky and many from Tennessee.
  • Our written family records show that I am also of Native American (Cherokee) heritage. 
  • My forefathers fought in the Revolutionary War, and for the Confederacy.
  • I was born during  the “baby boom”
  • I read a lot.
  • I didn’t go to college.
  • I love people. I love my wife, my family, my dog, music and knowing that there is a great  abundance and opportunity all around us if we choose to see it.  
  • I enjoy the memories of my past, but I don’t live there.
  • I do my best to learn from my mistakes….and I don’t look back…..ever. 
  • I would be remiss if I didn’t mention at least once that-  I.Love.Bourbon.         
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If art is to nourish the roots of our culture, society must set the artist free to follow his vision wherever it takes him.
~ John F. Kennedy