Breath. It goes in. It goes out.

If you follow my Q and A over at davedraper.com, you might know what I am talking about. My daughter, Lindsay, thinks I need a massive heart attack, so she waits until the last possible second to win the state championship.

I trained today.  A kbell VO2 Max workout for just 15 minutes, but the clarity is amazing. Maybe that is why we train: not for the body, but for the mind.

I’m jumping at the bit to finish my book for Laree. There are grades to do for both my college and high school classes, but I literally can’t wait to finish this book. It is my “truth.” I strive to never BS you all in my posts, but after a lot of discussions and give and take, I feel like this book will open up the “answer.” Of course, the answer is like a Celtic Knot, unwinding it is impossible and turns it into a nothing. (Ask Pangur Ban for details!)

What a few days. On Saturday, when Lindsay mounted the victory stand (and was STILL shorter than second and third place), I simply began to sob. My mind drifted back to 1977 when I asked Mom what she wanted for Mother’s Day. She said: “A state championship.” She got her gift.

This weekend, I understood.

We pass through this little boat called “life” so quickly and seem to always look towards “next” and “then” as if the answers are “out there” somewhere. In truth, to quote the Epic of Gilgamesh, “Look at the child that is holding your hand, these things alone are the concern of men.”

We have killed millions since then, destroyed much, lost more, and I can’t say it better. I watch my daughters walk on into life and begin to pack my life into smaller and smaller boxes and wonder where the time has gone.

Gilgamesh, whither are you wondering?

Life which you look for you shall not find.

I am already playing and replaying the videos from this weekend and wishing I could “feel” that feeling again of elation and surprise. But, it is gone. Lindsay wants to head off to graduation parties and dinners and celebrations and I desperately want to grab her shoulders and tell her to love and embrace every moment.

Bur, like breath, it goes in and it goes out. Like life.

And so, tomorrow, I will get up, drink coffee, do the this and thats of life, train a little and keep on keeping on. Like breath.

Back to top