On the eve of my 31st birthday, I’m sitting alone in my hotel room that I’ll be in for the majority of the week for work with a window that faces the roof of a neighboring building with the brightly lit signage of a Best Buy and a Wendy’s in the distance. I’ve just finished a barbacoa bowl at a Chipotle that I walked to at a mall across the street after having a needed workout at the Bally’s next door. My thoughts consume me as I remember a promise to my wife that I would guest write a blog on her website. The only thing I can think of is a tall, metal sliding board.
The metal sliding board that I remember is no longer in the place that I remember it, I really don’t even know what is in its place now, probably something safer, something plastic and shorter in stature; something that won’t burn your butt when it’s hot or not even allow you to slide for that matter. It doesn’t matter, it’s not the same place that I remember as being my mountain to climb to talk to God, to listen to Him, as a child who just didn’t know how to figure things out, wanted some answers, needed to be heard, needed to cry, like I feel like I’m about to do as I write this.
Sometimes it’s difficult to talk about your past. I think that it’s because in some regards it’s no longer a reflection of the person that you currently are. Yes, it’s something that you may have learned from, and you may feel like you carry it as a representation of the person you are, however the people from that period in your life may never understand why you don’t reflect those images anymore and the new people that you encounter may never understand why those things were ever a part of the person you currently are.
I truly appreciate my wife for the transparency of her blogs. In my additions to her work, I plan to do the same. I want to get back to that sliding board where I was more open to bear the things on my heart and to share with you the things that I’ve gone through, those defining moments, those vivid reflections that will show you who I am. I invite you to make the climb with me.
- Just B.