A Life Worth Living is a Life Worth Recording

Hello and greetings from Ava, Missouri... or "Out here in the middle."

After seeing others (friends, family, radio personalities, etc...) blogging and knowing that I have experienced some wonderful and tragic and funny and sad things in my 47 years (and continue to do so), I have decided to keep up with the times by recording some things that are of interest to me.

Maybe this is self-indulgence or perhaps my ego is running rampant to think that others might actually want to know what I have to say, but I just read the most wonderful post on a friend's blog (Ben) about his experience with Disneyland. I don't know what it means to me, that post... but it means something. So someone may look at some of my travels through life and think someday "I don't know what that post means, but it means something to me."

I want the people that hold a special place in my heart to know some things about me, and this seems a good place to post some of those things. I have some stories. I have some experiences that have changed my life. I have some heartaches and pains and recoveries that someone may draw strength from. Who knows?

Anthony Robbins says that a life worth living is a life worth recording.

My grandfather was ill for quite a while back in the early-mid '90s. I was working the midnight shift during those times and on some days I would go straight to the hospital from work to visit with him for a while. Sometimes he would be asleep and I would just sit with him, but other times he would sit up in his bed and talk to me about anything and everything. I remember on a few mornings when he would talk about his childhood in Palestine, Texas. He would talk about his family, the things he and his brothers did. He told me how he hopped a train to Houston and how he wrapped his arms around the walking platform on top of the car so he could sleep without falling off.

I wish now that I had recorded or even written down the things he talked about. There was great wisdom in that man and he was gone before I realized the treasure he had for me. Some of those stories are still there but most have faded with time I'm afraid. I know that I'll get another chance to hear those things but I really wish I had them now.

I don't want that to happen to me... all the things I want to say to be silenced for a season because I have moved on. Maybe I can explain it with a little help from one of my favorite writers.

The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them--words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to where your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller, but for want of an understanding ear.

Thank you to Stephen King.

So there it is. Read if you like... participate if you choose... ignore if you desire. I'll write and you can do as you wish. I have a wonderful life with my wife Sheri, our various pets, our children, our families and extended families, and an ever growing list of friends. I have much to talk about.

I look forward to spreading a little of "The Meaning of Life According to Lynn" in this medium.

Until next time...