Me at 17ish…

We can’t go back.

We can’t be back where were were and describe it with any degree of accuracy.

It didn’t happen yesterday. Or last week.

The truth is, the farther away we are the more we make up…or attempt to fill in the blanks in order to render a coherent sketch.

Sometimes it’s to cover wounds.

Other times it’s to exaggerate successes.

But mostly it’s to make sense of things we are no longer in a place in time to understand.

~~~

I was a natural born athlete, but I never had a passion for any particular sport.

I liked playing football with my friends, but never wanted to suit up and practice as a member of a team.

It was too demanding, regimented.

The same was true of swimming, tennis, bike riding, skiing.

Again, in my own time, my own way.

I was one of those kids who had talent for a lot of things, none in particular.

A jack of all trades.

Whatever I did end up doing with my life I would have to work hard to master.

So what was it going to be?

I certainly didn’t want to live my life with the “coulda woulda shoulda” virus in my veins, taunting me until I died of cirrhosis.

So I tried everything I was good at to see what stuck.

As a teenager I liked playing electric guitar, but I wasn’t passionate enough about it to practice 12 hours a day, nor was I born with a natural song writing ability.

My neighbor, Harry Connick, Jr., was an entirely different story. God wrote his name on a piano and that was that.

Most of us aren’t so lucky. We have to stumble around to figure it out.

Then I tried my hand at acting, and though I managed to work, I still wasn’t passionate enough about it to stomach rejection, so I moved on.

Then one day I picked up a camera and something happened.

It felt natural, like it was supposed to be there…kind of like writing, which I have always done in an effort to make sense of things.

Combining the two led me to where I am today.

I guess I did okay.

I have always been most passionate about finding my true calling in life.

If anything, this was my salvation, my gift.

A lot of guys I know did whatever paid the bills, and now they look back and wonder what the hell happened to their lives.

But the truth is they did exactly what they were supposed to do.

Accepting this is the key to winning the midlife assessment game.

…but nobody wants to hear it because they’re still convinced they were destined to become rock stars, novelists, actors, and/or celebrity chefs before the went into the insurance business.