My nephew is twenty-three-years-old and living his passion and following his dream.
When he came to San Diego just over a week ago, he wrecked his dirt bike and ended up in the emergency room. The very next week he drove from California to Texas, got back on his bike and did better than the week before.
It is true that he holds the world record for a dirt to dirt jump, but at other times, his body has been bruised, broken, and hurting. He gets back up, though. He travels long distances to try again. He commits his time, his money and his talent to being the best rider he can be.
I love that spirit.
I had a minor meltdown the other day. I ended up crying that I couldn’t keep up my current schedule (two blogs, articles, essays, and other school work). I thought of my nephew, and all he does to live out his passion and try to make his dreams come true.
I don’t have the grit, the determination, or the physical strength of my nephew, but I can learn from the one thing he does over and over again – he wrecks that bike and gets back on to race.
I have to let something go, and for many reasons, what I am going to let go is school, but it is just a minor wreck. I’m hurt, but I’m getting back on the bike right now – typing these words.
I wish I was like my nephew and followed my dreams when I was young, but there is no guarantee I would have a trophy or first place race behind me now. I am fifty. I am slower and more cautious than when I was younger. I am less likely to risk it all and throw my whole self into the process. I am wiser now, though, and I need wisdom more than strength for my dream to come true.
I’m a bit roughed up today. It could be my ego that is hurt worst of all, realizing that my limitations are far more than I previously understood. I can push limits, though, and I’ll do my best to go as far as I can.
Both my nephew and I are moving toward dreams – he wants to be the fastest, and I want to make words sound like a symphony.
He needs to get back on the bike and ride, and I need to spend time forming sentences at my computer.
We are both going to get a little dirty, a little sore, but in the process, we’ll gain experience.
I hold that young man in my heart, and say under my breath like a mantra to us both, “Ride Alex, ride.”