Did the Poet Even Know It?
December 30, 2019
It is the Christmas season…so why is my faith shaken?
Growing up, I couldn’t stand church camps or anything of the sort. Instead, I wanted to be outside, finding bugs, chasing animals and building forts.
Yet, as I grow older and come to learn what life’s about, I want more and more to Be; In likeness of the devout.
My childhood was great! We lived just outside the Hills, in the state of South Dakota. Our backyard went on and on… forever, just like the eternal quota.
I recall us kids being out all day in the summer sun ‘till it faded away. “No girls aloud” we would shout, up in our forts in the ‘mountains’ bout. We carved our names, we carved out spears, we built traps so big they would catch a deer.
It’s time to go… same time tomorrow?
Now here I am twenty-six years later, and these memories are some of the best I keep. As a parent myself, I wonder many times, could I let my kids be free? Wild? Yet get enough sleep?
I learned early on from a mentor of mine, to keep a journal and to record the time. My first (I’m glad I lost) it made my parents sad. I’ll never forget the wise words shared with me from Dad.
Just last night I opened my journal back from 2005. Some of the first pages I read, began with explaining how my best friend Ryan, had died. He fought cancer all his life and as kids we didn’t understand.
It wasn’t until I met him again. That time, that time, I was a, “man”.
He suffered great but it never showed in his personality. He was one of the greatest mentors I’ve met on my journey, about how happiness should be.
Sure, we were kids never given a second glance. But given that glance, we’d show Tom and Huck how to smoke with a manly stance.
Did I mention yet that I’m a parent now with three beautiful kids to call my own?
My faith is being challenged, yet my life is full. Why is that?
What I’ve learned about myself over time, is that I hit periods of depression. Who would have thought!? Surely I’m not like the market with regular recessions. I used to think depression was a farce, but now I know. It sneaks up on you, like a thief, but in the light of happiness’s glow.
So, keep that journal and mark the time. Who knows how many you might help down the line.
Did the Poet even know it? If he did, did he show it?
– John Currier
P.S. To Roy and the Wizard Academy: Thanks for all that you do. You teach me with every Memo and help to think about new possibilities. This essay is lacking six hundred words, so I thought I’d use the rest to let you all know how much the group has meant to me over the years. I met you during the Public Speaking 101 class in 2012 and I’m looking forward to continuing this journey of being all, doing all and knowing all that I can. I send you my best wishes and look forward to meeting you all again at the next training. I’ve never forgotten the Wizard Academy. In fact, I bought a beagle as a tribute to Indy. His name is Ranger and his unusual picture is attached. All the best!