In my head
I'm a walking juke box and this afternoon's lyrics*, after finishing up more legal financial work, are:
"The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where
Who knows when…"
I'm so tired my heart hurts. I'm angry. I keep thinking I've done what needs to be done. Then the mail arrives with more fun and joy.
Then I recall an article I read this morning about the death of the Ultimate Warrior.
During Monday's episode of "WWE Raw," he slipped on a mask, embracing his character a final time, his words full of heart and poignancy.
"No WWE talent becomes a legend on their own," he said. "Every man's heart one day beats its final beat. His lungs breathe their final breath. And if what that man did in his life makes the blood pulse through the body of others and makes them bleed deeper in something that's larger than life, then his essence, his spirit, will be immortalized by the storytellers -- by the loyalty, by the memory of those who honor him, and make the running the man did live forever.
"You, you, you, you, you," he said, pointing to the fans, "are the legend-makers of Ultimate Warrior."
Maybe I relate because I am also a warrior, because I am able to share the load. All this cannot be done alone.
* "He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother"
“Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy;
they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.”
No comments:
Post a Comment