the path

As a kid I used to love Legos, so much in fact that I loved Christmas and my birthday because most of the time I got some Lego related — my favorite being some medieval castle. One day I spent all my waking hours putting together a Lego city. It was small in size — around 4′ by 1′ — but took a lot of hard work from a youngster. It had a racetrack, high-rise, and houses for the little Lego people. That night my dad, and Uncle Mike came in late from a night at the Hitching Post and literally destroyed it. So I rebuilt it the next day and made it better… and so begins this exciting story.

I had enough Matchbox cars to fill up not only my Matchbox Toolbox carrying case but also another big box too. I loved having miniature car shows where I’d pick out my favorite toy cars and put them on display. I would then pretend there were rival car gang groups and they would all fight in a good versus evil style. It’d be interesting to look at those again because it would probably bring back some pretty funny memories.

At one time I was fascinated by video games. One Christmas morning I got the Nintendo gaming system (a big thing then) with the Power Pad for some Olympics style game. For some reason I remember my uncle (same one) being there and he and my dad running on it thinking it was the most pointless thing ever. It was, of course, but I was probably six or seven so it was the greatest thing for me at the time.

I can remember when I was about nine or ten playing with my action figures, I could come up with the most elaborate scenarios. I had this battle plane thing and I would get so lost in that whole thing. Looking back on it I find it kind of ridiculous, really. If there was no one to play with then I would simply make up an entire world to rid myself of boredom. I wish I could remember my characters’ names now because they were always cracked out — like Captain Seabass or something. I was a little too creative, I think.

I don’t know where that imagination went. It’s got to be around somewhere, because occasionally I have a flash of self-proclaimed brilliance. Now instead of play time antics and fantasy worlds, it usually comes in the form of written words or lengthy conversation. If I try to use that same childhood imagination to figure out what I want to do with my life (which at one time was an astronaut until I was old enough to learn I’d have a better chance of winning the lottery) I usually daydream about the past (as in right now) and purposefully ignore what lies ahead. I don’t want to think of it from a grown-up’s perspective because that will have meant I’ve given up being a kid and thus the end of youthful exuberance.

It’s been a while since I’ve put something meaningful to read on here because I haven’t been all too philosophical about anything ‘public.’ I need to start getting back to putting my thoughts down on paper instead of only thinking them.

Being the kind of person I want to be in all aspects is tough and if I set my goals too high I’m afraid I won’t ever reach them. Inversely, if I set them too low then I’d be limiting myself. Finding that balance has always been my problem (and I’m sure a lot of other people’s as well). Halfway through dinner I realized that on I’ve surpassed my initial goal of balancing graduate school with life and I haven’t set a new one. I think talking to someone at any depth for the first time brings that to the surface because otherwise those sorts of sentiments lay dormant. I can’t notice a gradual change in my physical appearance, but if I look at photographs from years ago I can tell I’m getting older. The same, for me, holds true when I look at how much I’ve grown as a person in the past five years. I left high school with a limited concept of my capabilities and now I feel as though I’m able to “be something.” What that something is will most likely be my next goal.

Over the past two days, there seems to be quite a bit of words and thought about a candle. Whether it was the person who purchased it, the guest who commented on it, or what has been crossing my mind the most: what it has come to represent.

This evening I was laying on my covers looking up and I noticed a familiar sight of the projectection of the lamp shade touching the ceiling. The smell of vanilla conjured up a few fleeting memories but most importantly the sense of tranquility through soft conversation. I can’t explain in words, but the chemical change of a burning wick and the surrounding molten wax never opened my eyes as much as it did in that moment.