In my youth I could invariably trace my father at an odd juncture along
the soccer field sidelines, and yet, a quick glance in the opposite direction
would reveal all the other parents, gleefully placed in silver bleacher
stands. They cheered, my dad simply
watched. He must of looked odd pacing up
and down that lonely speckled line, but to me, he was a picture of normalcy. And as I think of this, it is to transition to
a definition of my own life..
Society suggests such
places, silvery sweet, where we should and would be - for a life it defines
much like a game. For winners; for
losers. But I continually find myself
driven from these likely places, not in bravery as people often seem to
suggest, but in a simple quest of understanding. A quest
which often does, and has, evolved into fascination. A line which has not cornered me in another
set of bleachers, but led to another field; Korea.
If I am, and was, not lonely, not scared, quite familiar and comfortable, it is because in my heart and mind I have always been
in this place. Comfortably alone (thanks
Floyd), adapting a love for life so beautiful; I'm all
spectator and no spectacle. A travelers heart.
