I stood inside a boat this evening that was docked to the shore and mildly rocking with the tide, and within a minute I broke out in a sweat and then didn't want to go down the stairs and then had to come back up the stairs and look out at the horizon and then suddenly had to get off the boat, right away, with the dog in my arms and everything. And as I stood on the dock, in my socks, as my wife and children waved from the deck, I thought--yep, I'm the guy on the dock, in his socks. I will always be that guy.
And in the past at points I may have felt sorry for myself for being the guy on the dock, or romaticized myself for being the guy on the dock, or been angry at myself for being the guy on the dock, or vowed then and there that I would get my shit together and figure out how to stop being the guy on the dock by the time I turned thirtywhatever. But tonight I just thought--that's cool, I'm the guy on the dock. Look at all this cool shit I can see from the dock! I think maybe I'm actually kind of done trying to be what I am not, and I understand that I am most happy when I am being who I am, or at least engaged in an activity that I think will help me understand who it truly is that I in fact am. Or maybe I'm just tired of wanting to be someone else.
We are, all of us, weak and fragile creatures, subject to the winds of circumstance and the fluctuations of time. I've chosen my constants, the things from which I will not waver. Everything else is just a change in the weather. My heart is my reason. My body is only an umbrella.
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