As a long time fan of the Arizona State Sun Devils, I am familiar with the cheer 'Fork 'em Devils'. How appropriate for me, I have had a lot of forks in my travels through life, and some of my decisions upon reaching those forks have not always been the best choices. My brothers were asking me the other day....what year did you graduate from ASU....and I am almost sure they were shocked at my answer....I did not graduate. What brilliant fork decision could have led me to that status? Was I 'forked' over?
I live with my decisions, I own them...for better or worse. Any forks I chose which would have led me to any other path besides the one that led me to be husband to my wife or father to my daughters, and later to being a patriarch for my grandchildren could not arrive with any significant regrets, could they? Upon my honor, I think not.
Yet, it was not, is not, has not been an easy path. The stress I placed upon my family with some of my decisions could be measured if it was put under a microscope. But this blog entry is not about putting my decisions under a microscope. Not at this point.
I wanted to ask you which decisions in life are irreversible? Certainly, my decisions that led me to not have a University degree are certainly reversible. Indeed, I have the power to overcome that if I choose. So, which ones are irreversible I ask a second time? Marriage decisions? The decisions to have children? Lifestyle decisions? Life and death decisions?
I think there are some irreversible decisions that we can make. But I also think there are traps we can put ourselves in that we might think are irreversible, but perhaps we 'sort too early' sometimes.
I'm still being too general, I know.
So, let me be more specific. This, from my youth...
I remember a very sad day from my youth. A hard day at home led me to think my only option was to run away. I had no job, no where to go, no one to turn to. So I thought I would just run away. I had wanted to know how I could support myself, and one thought I had was to turn to a life of crime. That day, I experimented around with doing some pretty significant shop-lifting to see how good I could support myself through a life of crime. I turned out to be pretty good. I was able to successfully lift several items over a day in time, and I felt that perhaps I could get away with this if I needed to. Items included food stuffs, clothes, and other essentials.
After a day in this mode, my temper cooled and my loneliness flared and I ended up going back home. My decision to lead a life of crime to support myself had come to a temporary end.
I had entertained my criminal side for the better part of a day. But, was I now a 'criminal'? I showed that I was good at it, even though I had also shown I was not too good at living a criminal lifestyle. If that 'crime spree' defined me for a day, did it define me for all of my life?
Believe it or not, I have other examples. I can give some examples of several other vices that I embraced during my difficult youth. You may be surprised.
But which of those vices marked me for life? Which ones define me now?
For any youth reading this blog, today.... I want to ask you the same question. What single act, or even series of act defines you? Will you chose to let these acts define you forever. Do your paths converge and become one-way lanes...or can you back up to the fork? Can you hop on another road?
I have another story to tell.
My travelling buddy and I wanted to travel to Utah from San Francisco to see a buddy that lived in Provo. We decided to hop on a freight train to get us from point A to point B. Asking around, we determined that the Oakland Freight Yard had some trains scheduled to go East. Checking around the yard, we met a lineman who told us what train was headed toward Salt Lake City. He even offered to let us crash in his camper until the train was ready to depart. That night, he knocked on the camper door and pointed us to the right freight train.
The trip, though a little grimy, ended up being spectacular. The train traveled through the Sierras and through the Lake Tahoe area. It meandered along the Great Salt lake and we were able to see beautiful country that we otherwise would have missed. Once we arrived in the Ogden, Utah yard...we were caught by yard security and tossed from the yard. We did not quite make it to Provo, but our thumb took us there.Later on the trip, I happened to stay with some cousins in Ft. Branch Indiana. They asked about my trip and I told them stories, like the story above. They looked at me in awe, and said...you were pretty much a 'bum' then. I thought about that then, as I do now. Was I a 'bum', a 'hobo', 'homeless'? I suppose each of those adjectives did describe me. The definition fit. But did that one label define who I was.
Does the label you have chosen, or the label that chose you define you? At what point does the label become the truth of who you are?
Cheers, nca
