Every now and then I sit back, take in a few deep breaths and ponder on how I got here. What were my dreams when I first started dreaming of what I wanted my life to be like, to look like. My desires of life and what I wanted to do didn’t take place until I was in high school. I wanted to travel the world. To see other countries, experience their customs, and understand their culture. (Photo came from “A Lucid Dreamer’s Journey“) I started thinking of the song “Taxi” by Harry Chapin and probably what the songwriter was thinking while they wrote the song.

The world was a much different place in the late 60’s and 70s. Generations were busting out of their shell, seeking a freer lifestyle, breaking away from the ridged form of following the father’s footsteps or putting on a suit and grinding away at the office all day. People, young people, had ideas popping in their heads that there had to be more to life than going to work, coming home then do it all over again – day after day, week after week, year after year – only to die and have no meaning on that small dash on their tombstone between the years of birth and death.

Vietnam was going on, protesters with sit-ins, marches, songs and poetry, all across the nation showing their disapproval of fighting for a country that’s not ours, putting our young boys in danger for what? Now, we’re here in a world I barely recognize. I’m sure our parent’s generation couldn’t believe what was happening back then – young people not doing as they were told, setting off to do their own thing, ignoring the riggers of laws and government, shredding our old customs – wanting a new way of life. A life that would be worth enjoying. A life where there was peace all across the lands. A rejoice, one voice that stood out from country to country that brought about no war, no poverty, no hardships. In reality, that could never happen as long as there were greedy people, those that wanted to control, those that wanted other do do their dirty work, those that thought they were better than everyone else.

So… here I am again, pondering on how I got here. What were my dreams when I was younger? What did I want to do with my life? Now that I’m 70 years old with aches and pains that I had never thought I’d have – wondering, pondering – have I succeeded? Have I accomplished what I wanted all those years ago? Have I been happy?

Yes!

Till Next Time…