Summer at Seven

To approach the day as if the world was depending on me to save it. To climb a tree with the intensity of someone who was on a mission. To ride my bike with a sense of great purpose and determination. And to run from here to there as if I was in pursuit of the evilest villain alive.

Every day was a great adventure to be had. Every day was an opportunity to live out the saga and storyline that I would create in my head. Every day was about being a seven year old boy who was created for something larger than himself.

This was my summer at seven years old in Clifton Park, New York.

I often think back on the three years my family lived there with fond memories. Memories that were full of outdoor fun, neighborhood games, no schedules, sleeping with no air conditioning and the first conscious recollection of being my own person.

All of these thoughts have come full circle now as I watch my son Jack begin his summer vacation at the age of seven. How his blonde hair and blue eyes remind me of my younger days. How his long gangly legs and Irish skin remind me of my own body and skin color. How he runs everywhere with a sense of ferociousness as if not running would mean the end of the world as we know it.

I don’t think of my childhood as often as maybe I should these days. For within it lies a rekindled sense of life that is filled with dreams, hopes, and wonder. Within it lies a sense of the present.

And there lies the secret to life.

To be in the present long enough to know that you are a part of the greatest adventure there is…

The Journey of a Soul.

Thank you Jack.

“Souls are like athletes that need opponents worthy of them, if they are to be tried and extended and pushed to the full use of their powers.”

-Thomas Merton