Wholly Incomplete

The clock hand chases towards the midnight hour. It will catch it for only a second. It will only be perfectly midnight for one second. Such is the pattern of our life, as we entertain moments of perfection that can only last for but a moment. A hot drink from Starbucks and my mind is back to the grind of the work that allows me to maintain my somewhat carefree life schedule. One more website to finish this month, and I will be good to go to Texas. Nothing’s ever easy.

This upcoming move is proving to be the lion that is roaring in my face. Many uncertainties and fears are presenting themselves in rapid-fire order. They conveniently stack themselves in powerful 1-2 combinations that routinely knock me off of my feet. As nice as it would be to have a good night of sleep, I know that I have not worked nearly hard enough to earn this yet. Comfort is a privilege and not a right.

Sitting here at Starbucks, I’m doing my usual recap of the events that have led me to this moment. I’m also realizing that I’ve occupied nearly every available seat in this location at one point or another. Each seat tells its story; some were moments of anguish, frustration, contentedness, opportunity, excitement, provision, and honorable remembrance of loved ones lost. When you begin to pen down pieces of your life in one place, the setting begins to look more and more like a table of contents, rather than a simple corner coffee shop with overpriced, over-roasted, and over-hyped coffee. Starbucks – Consistently terrible.

What I learned here in Los Angeles has been one of those most important lessons of my life. It would be hard to summarize in one short blog. However, what is most liberating about this place is that it has taught me to operate independently of those around me. While this can be a positive thing, there’s also a great deal of responsibility placed on the shoulders when you begin to carry the burdens associated with life. I have a hard time thinking of the days where I wasn’t paying reasonable amounts of money for rent, car payments, gym memberships, grocery bills, and more overpriced, over-roasted, over-hyped coffee.

We grow up so quickly. All confidence aside, there’s a secret part inside that desperately wants to find guidance, assurance, and a pat on the back that the direction I’m headed is the right one. Fathers are supposed to provide this type of support to their sons/daughters.

If there comes a day where I have children, I will want to let them know – and never forget – that I am proud of them. Not proud for their accomplishments and mighty feats, but also for their ability to accept and move on from failure. I want them to know their trophies were earned because they were #1, not because they were simply a participant of life. I will want them to know they can carry themselves in a manner that is proud, confident, and sure of themselves, even if they aren’t sure of where they are going.

When we die, I owner if we will be able to meet all of those who were impacted by the choices of our lives. I also wonder if we will be able to meet all of those who affected our life and the choices we made. There are a good many people who have hands I’d like to shake.

Friend, this journey of life is often overwhelming. There are many instances where simply moving forward becomes harder and harder to do. But, these moments are accompanies by breakthroughs that can only be appreciated by the gravity of the hardship that predated their existence. No guts – no glory, champ.

If I have kids, I’ll want them to know not to be afraid of ‘they’ people. You know, the people that prevent us from trying our hardest to be the best version of ourselves. It’s these ‘people’ that prevent many from even attempting to gain entrance into the most prestigious of schools, institutions, and businesses, for fear that “they” are more qualified or better suited for the job. I’ll want them to know that “they” are no match for who they are, or what they are capable of. These “they” people prevent us from getting out of bed some mornings, for fear that our dreams are already realized by others who are somehow more capable of realizing them than we are.

Wake up, Plaat.

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