Show You

I’ve experienced the crushing blow of seeing a post online of a friend that is going through something and realizing, I haven’t seen or spoken to this person in years. Sure, I still care for them, and sure, we all have valid reasons why life sends us on different paths and journeys, but it’s worth exploring the question, Have I done my best as a friend?

Many times, the answer is yes, and adding some strange sense of guilt isn’t necessary. But sometimes, just sometimes, we must come to terms with it: I must show love, face to face, beyond the Facebook thumbs up and hearts. I can do better extending myself, and sharing my life, with others.

Ballin Out Here

Growing up I was always underestimated when it came to my favorite sport: basketball. I remember being offended as a youngster, but I soon came to realize that being underestimated was a great advantage.

I played on a team in middle school, but my passion was streetball. I played basketball outside whenever I could, no matter the weather. I remember shoveling my friend’s driveway just to shoot some hoops and beat him one on one.

Short? Yes, but quick, and a lefty, which made it a little more difficult to figure me out. I learned to stay quiet, and to let my game speak for me.

I’m not a professor, but I taught many, many kids growing up. My lesson? You underestimate people at your own risk.

On the verge of completing my second short album entitled, “Show You”, I feel a great sense of gratitude for those who have partnered with me to make this project a reality.

Teamwork and collaboration are invaluable and exciting. Being part of a collective mission reveals so much about humanity, adventure, and fruitfulness.

Strive to be an uplifting team-player in whatever vocation you are in. 

My friend posted something last night on Facebook that I really liked. He spoke about the nature of being an introvert, and I completely identified with what he said in terms of our strengths and apparent shortcomings. “I don’t small chat well,” he said, or something like that, “but I have my passions,” meaning, you get him talking about something he is passionate about and he will talk for hours about it.

I would add this. It’s not that I am shy, or that I don’t like to talk to people. It’s that inside I have an ingrained need to listen, to observe, and to appreciate the voices, sites and sounds around me. Bolstered in me is the habit of quiet observance, a taking in of the world, like walking through a timeless museum. For what one may consider mundane, I perceive as significant, and sometimes, breathtaking.