… has me standing at the bus-stop – freezing mostly – and witnessing quite an odd sight! Nearly every morning when I catch the bus, I see a bloke from a few houses down from the bus-stop step out onto the road, swinging his golf club purposely up onto his shoulder – all ready to ‘rock and roll’. I struggled to see what the club was originally, as it was still the middle of winter here in Perth then and as such, it was still quite dark. When I figured it out, I have to admit – I freaked a little inside! I mean seriously, who needs a golf club at that time of the morning? What sort of grim business is this bloke up too at that time of the morning with such purpose in his step eh – what’s he going to ‘fix up’ with that golf club?
Once my imagination stopped running away with itself, I settled in to watch. The man lightly warmed up as he walked, as it turns out – he has about three different ‘plots’ from which to practice on. His favourite is the manicured lawn across from him. Watching him today, I was amazed at his single minded sense of purpose and commitment. I personally can’t STAND golf – but here was this fella – just him and his club, waking before most people, in the cold, waltzing across the road to practice his teeing off on his neighbours lawn. It’s poetry to watch; swing, follow through – all the way around – stop. Bend forward – stop – steady, tense, driven – in his groove, visualising the tee and ball. Swing – follow through – stop. Stretch backwards – like an inverted ‘c’ – pause – straighten up… Swing! This happens for perhaps 10 or 15 minutes, and then he moves on. I can’t help but watch and wonder – what if I treated my writing like this – how different would things be?
Well, I guess if I was to be totally honest folks – I already know the answer. I’d be doing things VERY differently, so the irony of the moment isn’t lost on me. But still – wow! If we all woke up in the morning and moved with such purpose in our lives, how completely different would our shared life be? I’ve been lucky to receive training that guided my ability to move with a sense of purpose – so long as the reason for doing so remained present and active. Things change over time. I no longer have the same things to motivate me in such ways – or do I?
There’s my loving family, my boys and my other half – and I try to move with a sense of purpose in my life that aims to provide for them. I wonder if I’m succeeding at all – sometimes I feel as if I’m moving through sludge – and it’s a struggle to get out of bed some mornings and take to the office with energy and vigour. Sometimes when I’m tired and worn, I do wonder if I’m doing any ‘good’ at all. I look over at the XO, and I wonder how she feels – more tired and worn then me – in places I can’t even see, nor fathom. I’m left thinking – wow – how do we just keep on moving – how do people simply keep on ‘keeping on’?
And then I think to a friend I know – an older friend. I haven’t conversed much with this friend. I should you know – but I haven’t been focused enough on anything other then our immediate family problems, and I’m guessing he’s been in exactly the same place. You see – his wife has been gravely ill. His little family has been under immense strain, and there’s not many in his ‘immediate’ family – just the three of them. They simply put their collective heads down and get on with it. One thing after the other was thrown in the wife’s way – overcoming the first ‘obstacle’ – only to be presented with another! Overcome that one – again only to be thrown another – sheesh – what was it she did again to deserve such a shite hand of cards in this game called ‘Life’?
In my head I think on this often. I don’t tell my friend this. I probably should you know – but my friend is an old-fashioned sort – and amazingly observant. I’m guessing my friend already knows this of me. I think of his ‘trusty rifle bearer’ and I wonder on her strength and singleness of purpose – how’s that sitting with her round about now? How’s this sitting with my friend? How’s the family? How’s the irony – you see, this friend has survived a professional life of regular soldiering.
He has managed to avoid many a potentially dangerous situation over many years in uniform – not without his share of ‘scars’ mind you – we’ve spoken on this topic some, but in my mind it’s got to be a good thing to be still walking around, after a ‘lifetime’ of professional soldiering. At home now – they’ve been facing the biggest battle(s) he’s / she’s / they have ever seen. That’s got to hammer your sense of purpose some, and all I can hope for is that they’re resolute – because the alternatives simply aren’t acceptable.
And me – well, my life is relatively simple and uncomplicated when measured against such as that. I get up, grumble some, waste time, attempt to help the XO with the kids for breakfast (and fail sometimes), get ready for work, wander on down to the bus stop, and see this bloke swinging his golf club for all it’s worth. He gives it his all – each and every time – and I can’t help but be a little envious of him. Sure – I know his life and mine are probably worlds apart – much like mine and my friends, but I can’t help but connect them all together at times. Especially when my thoughts wander – and I find it tripping over those I forget to harass at times, those I wonder about, and those I care for.
Here’s thinking of you all – because I do – often.
Belongum – Out!