Chapter 1: Childhood

Memories are our window to the past. A window that can easily be opened or quickly latched shut. It seems as though these memories, good or bad, are always present regardless of how hard we may try to forget them. These little portals to the past are so important though. They allow us to learn from the mistakes we’ve made, laugh at our embarrassing moments, and grow as people. I am thankful for everything that has happened to me, because I wouldn’t be the person I am today without my memories.

            I remember the way we used to fly kites on that seemingly endless acre of land. You know, everything’s bigger when you’re 3 years old. I would always get my big yellow kite caught in the trees, and every time you would lift me up and I’d climb onto the branches and throw it down to you. Soon after the kite came down, I’d jump and just as I felt gravity pulling me in, you would capture me in your arms laughing the entire time at the frightened expression on my face. After we would get tired of running around, I would beg you to push me on our old rope swing. You would pretend to protest, and then at the last second cave in. After all, what dad can resist the pouty face? I’d eagerly hop onto the swing and you would begin to push. Slowly but surely, and I’d giggle and scream, “Higher daddy higher!” until I could reach the top of the tree branches with my little fingers. After all was said and done we would race inside to cool off and watch Gilligan’s Island together. Summer nights were spent with a bowl of popcorn and a story. We never ran out of books, and if we did, well we created our own. Now, I’m 16 years old, and there is little time left. Sure, we still spend time together; I mean all those hours on the golf course have to count for something, right? But as I watch many of my friends graduate and leave I’ve come to realize the hour glass is beginning to run out. Each second, minute, hour, day, is precious. If I could travel back and spend every day fishing my kite out of that dang tree, I would. If I could once again feel the green leaves in between my fingers, I would. If I could spend every day of these next two years out on the golf course laughing at crazy chip shots, or teasing each other about missed putts, I would. Those days spent out on the swing set have slowly faded into hours sitting in school. Soon enough time spent in school will drift into days devoted to work. I feel like time is running out. I’m a sophomore in high school and I don’t have enough time? That seems to be almost unheard of, but it’s true. Talks of college fill conversations. I’m just a sophomore. When are you getting a job? I’m just a sophomore. Though these things are indefinitely something I should be worried about…I don’t want to. Not yet anyways. Just yesterday I was unfolding my mat for naptime (though I dreaded having to go to sleep instead of playing) in Mrs. Nickel’s kindergarten class. As Ken Hill once stated, “Childhood is a promise that is never kept.” As we grow up childhood becomes nothing but a memory. What once was a way of life are now only a few pictures in a scrap book.

My Own Inspiration

            Have you ever stepped outside the box? The box we have been confined to for centuries. The box that contains the gross Christmas fruitcake grandma sent from Arkansas. The box that has kept us safe, and comfortable. Now, what were to happen if that box were to one day disappear? If we were to erase the lines that held us in, if we were to calculate the perimeter rather than the area, because thanks to all those years in math class that is the one useful thing we learned. (Yeah right). Brilliant mind, Thomas Edison, discovered a thousand ways how not to create a light bulb, but he only needed one way that worked. It seems that today we have found a thousand ways how not to run a country, a thousand ways how not to make people content with their lives, a thousand ways how not to build upon what we have worked so hard to achieve. But we only need one way that will work. One idea of all ideas to set the world in motion again, just one. All we need is a little inspiration. But that is what seems to be lacking. After scrapping 3 attempts at a blog post I feel that there is little to inspire me. On the surface, this assignment didn’t seem difficult; except for the fact it’s taken me two days and a lot of crumpled pieces of paper to decide what to write. Some might say that I lack decision making skills, but I feel that this is more a lack of inspiration and motivation. I’ve figured out that after sitting around and waiting for the inspiration train to hit me with a rush of ideas, I’ve gained nothing but more frustration. Why is it that we spend hours waiting for something to inspire us, waiting to come across just the right combination of words to set off millions of new ideas? What if, instead of waiting for that right moment, we create that moment? We create our own inspiration. Now, maybe this has moved from seemingly indecisive to impatient, but what’s wrong with taking risks and seizing new opportunities? Life is something that only happens once, and we have limited time to take advantage of what’s before us. So how hard could it possibly be to turn over a new chapter and begin a life lived to the absolute fullest? It’s time to say, ‘What the heck!?’ and carpe diem.