With the rising mercury of the summer months, we are clearly familiar with the scorching sun and record highs of July, I concurrently feel myself thawing from the singular focus of my college commitments. The cardboard tube sits near my nightstand, with the sheepskin waiting to be unrolled and framed, and I find my spirit similarly unrolling from a cramped rest.
Amy has seen this log jam of ice slowly melt and feed an increasingly frenzied runoff, marked by renewed projects, new hobbyist ambitions and more than a few "what if" musings. It is as if my solid focus on my MBA, now unrequited as awakened both the sleeping giant, and slumbering boy inside me ready to set out to the next horizon.
Over airline taxiways, over lonely travel meals and at other stolen moments I am devouring the first of three biographies on Theodore Roosevelt, this focusing on his rise. As I watch him steam across Europe or trot over the badlands, I feel that kindred spirit of adventure and restlessness stir inside me to action. The descriptions of the West hit me with the dull ache of nostalgia for my days in the West. As I consider the prairie or remember the red rocks radiating the sun's heat long past sunset, I step outside in the summer of Kansas or New Jersey and am taken back there with the smells of dust and pine and the dry baking sun.
On top of all these musings, I am actively pondering some of my future actions at my company and for my future career. I feel I am trying to map an uncharted trip, frustrated and excited. So for the last month I have focused solely on the virtues and foundations of any of these journeys. This alone fuels my spirit for a while. It isn't a desire to wander, escape or be overly ambitious. But more to live and experience. To try my hand at the "vigorous life". There are some small waypoints on my horizon: an impending vacation at our summer cottage with all the alluring adventures that await among the rippled cool waters and pine-peppered stones; a nebulous backpacking trip beginning to take shape along the Appalachian Trail with some male friends; a distant trek West to hike the Grand Canyon and reveal the splendors of Southern Utah to my wife and daughters - and upcoming son.
For now, I'm crammed in a middle airline seat, feeling more than a little restless and excited.
HRP
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