Falling down the stairs

Sped through a stop sign, you never know what you'd hit.

It started like any other day. Promising myself that I would wake up early, like normal I hit snooze and sleep another 45 mins. I finally get out bed to open blackout curtains. Pissed at myself that I missed another early morning. I keep lying to myself that I want to get up early and get all this work done. It never happens.

I get up because I have to. Every morning taking my dog out to the patch of turf right outside of my apartment. You can feel the cool breeze against your skin. There is almost this wind tunnel that forms right outside of my apartment. I live for walking out that shitty metal door.

After my dog pees on the cement lamp post, while dog poo scattered around. I start my Apple Watch. I scroll the digital crown and click on the "Outdoor walk" button. I take my dog to the river where I see the refection of my failed self. It keeps me honest, but in a twisted sense gives me hope.

It gives me this small sense of accomplishment, knowing that I get up and walk .5 miles. I tend to get wrapped up in the upside. Trying to value max my life. Saying to myself that "Oh it could've been 1.6 miles" it can always be more. It is never enough.

I get back to my apartment and make that cup of coffee. I sit at my desk and fire up my laptop. The time strike 9:01. This internal pressure forms. An internal tyrant telling me that I am late. Late to what though? I have no idea. This arbitrary goal that I set for myself. Some KPI that I have to hit everyday or I feel like a failure.

I begin to fill out my todo list. I look at my calendar and note down the meetings that I have to attend. Noting that I have to journal, read, go play basketball with boys, and write. The classic things, that are always on my todo list. The structure of my life.

The Workday continues on, like the software tool. It seems like another day. Having a ton of meetings and failing to find those deep work moments. I work a lot and even into late hours because I cannot find the time in the "9-5". I feel obligated to get the work done.

Except on Tuesdays, those are the days that I have weekly basketball. I live for those days, just like the shitty metal door I open to the outside world. I enjoy those moments of pure bonding.

Scoring and shooting with the team. It is extra special when everyone is in flow. Passing the ball to get peak movement. Our team was unstoppable last week. We all were scoring and sharing.

After it was all done and the heat got to us. We were walking to our cars in the dead of night. Then from a distant realm a screech echos out of the darkness. In that moment, I hesitated. Scared. Thinking to myself, should I go over there and be nosy? Or keep to myself? I am really glad I went over. As it turned out, someone got hit on a bicycle. A pedestrian was struck.

That moment really stuck with me. I saw this guy with a broken arm and a leg that he could not raise at all. It reminded me a lot of younger years. I vividly remember having a cast because I fell down the stairs. One second I was at the top of the stairs. The next I was on the landing.

No doubt when I was a kid I was scared and injured. I wonder what that kid would say now? Oh how far he has come. When the problems were who was going to sign my cast, now they are much greater than that. How am I going to deal with my family? Or friends? Or my own internal struggles? Or my dreams?

You never know what you might discover when you blow through the intersection of life. Possibly danger, but so much more...