The Tapestry...

Found out last week that a close personal friend has breast cancer. Don't want to burden her with my own fears and emotions--she has much more important things to worry about right now. Anyway, she has an awesome website and blog set up (tigerox.org) , and I thought doing a blog of my own would be a great way to air some stuff without needing to talk directly.

The idea behind the name is a thought I had as I was learning to unicycle (I can ride about 20 feet now without assistance): we start life on four wheels in a stroller, then we move to three wheels on a trycycle, then we get balance and move to two wheels on a bicycle. I decided that one wheel on a unicycle must certainly be the most evolved we ever get! We then go back to a two wheeled walker, then a three-wheeled electric cart at the grocery store, then four wheels on a wheelchair or a gurney.

So that must mean we're most evolved at the peak of our lives, right???

But as I watched my grandmother in her final three years (of 96), and I look at my kids now (3 and 1), I have to wonder whether they might know something that the rest of us are missing? Is activity really the pinnacle? Or is it just being in each moment of each day that really counts? When a diagnosis of cancer drops into your lap, do you really care what your high school GPA was, or whether you gained the approval of a social club? Does your income or house or car or anything material matter? Or is it really the love of your friends and family that are everything and carry you through? They say that kids are innocent and the elderly are wise, but I think maybe they're both wise.

They both know to take the time to enjoy "right now" and not be too serious about what might happen down the road. Maybe that's a good argument for unicycling being the peak of evolution--it is an absolutely asinine form of transportation, and there is no good reason to do it except that it's fun and you can't help but smile when you do it.

Anyway, off this goes to the bitstream. My email tagline has been the same for quite some time: "Faith will move mountains, but you'd better bring a shovel." I hope I can do a lot of shoveling for my dear friend over the next 8 or 9 months.

bmc