Tonight I watched the last two Indiana Jones movies. The first of the two, The Last Crusade, really impacted me as a kid. I remember having my parents buy me little notebooks that I could pretend were my own "grail diaries". I'd wear khaki pants and hiking books. My house had bricks outside the side door, and I would walk, carefully, from brick to brick, imagining that I was spelling the word "Jehovah" (even though we all know that, in Latin, "Jehovah" is spelled with an "I"). I would have loved to have travelled the world in search of ancient artifacts and adventure. However, I think I missed my calling.
I love writing. I love finding moving stories and having inspirational experiences and sharing them with people. When I'm not writing about movies and burgers, I seem to create things that impress even myself.
Maybe I missed my calling in that I'm supposed to be a starving artist of sorts, going from place to place, looking for work and adventure and things to write about. Maybe I'm even supposed to get a job writing. I watched a movie the other night (I forget which movie), and one of the characters made a reference to the River of Destiny. The reference was that we're supposed to embrace what we are destined to be, or else we find ourselves swimming against the current, wasting all of our energy on fruitless endeavors.
With all of the upheaval at work on Friday afternoon and the cloud that will be hanging over things tomorrow, maybe it's my sign that I have been fighting the current long enough. Maybe it's time to go and actually do the things I've wanted to do, to live in a BattleWagon and actually travel to new and exciting places. I can't resist the current.
No comments:
Post a Comment