This post is going to ramble somewhat, but hopefully you will extend me a little grace as I get to my point for writing today.
Maybe it is because I spent the afternoon with a couple of old friends who race bicycles and we just had a great time talking as they laid down some very respectable times on a 12 mile time trial. We reminisced about the old days and how we were getting along as age begins to affect our riding abilities.
I guess it could be that I just finished reading the autobiography of a rock icon who I have followed for over 42 years, Gregg Allman. I remember the effect of the Allman Brothers’ Live at the Fillmore album had on me some 38 years ago. As a youngster, all of 17 years of age, I was simply blown away. Now I listen to him with tears in my eyes. Our lives have paralleled one another in many remarkable ways, but the thing that got me the most was when he has spoken about how he felt regarding his music. The power of believing rock n’ roll could save your soul. I felt that for a long time and it was a very rude awakening when I discovered possibly the complete opposite was true.
Or it might be that today is Sunday. And Sunday’s have always produced a certain melancholy mood in me. Even long before I became a Christian, when I was about as far away as one could get from any type of moral, ethical lifestyle I would feel a difference on Sunday. If I were on a multi-day bender of cocaine, alcohol, and debauchery, when Sunday rolled around I always pulled back from the edge. Many times I would take off by myself and just go someplace where I could be alone. I remember several times I parked across the street from a church as it was letting out. I watched as they came out, talking, laughing, the kids running, and the couples walking arm in arm. Some carried a black book that I was fairly sure was the Bible. I sat there in my new black-on-black Porsche 928 and wondered why people would get up early and come to this building. I thought about what they did in there. I was completely unchurched and didn’t have a clue as to how it worked. But still I wondered what it would be like to go.
Of course, it could also simply be that I am not as young as used to be. The truth is I have probably lived more days than I’m going to live. That thought never ceases to amaze me. I’m not sure why, but it always does.
I’m writing all of this because I am warming up to something that I want to say: to quote Janis’ I want to share a little piece of my heart with you.
I started this blog back in February and I didn’t have any idea what to expect. I knew there where ideas I wanted to write about. Ideas about honesty, and truth, and respect, and boundaries, and morality, and love, and compassion, and a zillion other things, but I didn’t know how they/me would be a accepted. And it was me. My thoughts and ideas and the words I write, well they are me. They are how I live my life. They can’t be separated from me. They are me.
I want you to know how deeply you have touched the very depths of my soul by your open acceptance. Every comment you have written and every time you selected the Like tab has brought a smile to my face and a grateful feeling to my heart. There have been a couple of thousand comments and I have no idea how many likes from all over the world, but each and every one has been like a soft breeze blowing straight across my heart. That breeze brought refreshment, encouragement, and enlightenment to a parched soul.
There are far too many of you to thank individually and I’m afraid if I were to call out a few it would perhaps diminish what the rest would take away from this post. So I’m resisting the urge to do that, because I want everyone of you who have used the valuable (and limited) time in your life to read, like, and/or comment to know you have lifted my Spirit.
So from the very bottom of my overflowing heart…I humbly thank you.
I bow before you.