Or the death of an idol. I think I may have mentioned that I am a fan of UFC. Not the company, but the fighters and competition. One of my favorite fighters of all time was Evan Tanner. He was like me, suffering from demons that existed in us. We both had our bouts with alcohol and depression. He filled his days with a monk like existence. But those days were also filled with adventure.
We were alike both having these grandiose ideas that seemed to wilt like a crop on the vine. I have tried to make myself feel better by acquisition of material things and snakes. Thinking that each new snake or item would make me feel whole. I have bred snakes several years in a row. But will I be remembered for that or that I created a hybrid of two different pythons that no one else had ever done. Probably not.
Those are already passing memories. I was excited almost ecstatic when that first one hatched. But like other people with the snake addiction there is always that next snake and I just need one more. But adventures are what create the memories we should hold onto.
My fondest memories seem to be the ones where I experienced adventure. Like the day when I went hot air ballooning. Floating with few cares. Not knowing where I would end up with the wind as your guide. The quiet you experience flying a few feet over houses and highways. Sheltered from the noise by the height and the wind. I work in the library and I dream of those quiet moments when I was floating.
Evan died back in September, he was on another adventure and had engine trouble and expired do to heat exhaustion. But at least he was out there. So where does this lead? I have started to realize I am not happy with my possessions. I have slowly started to give away things. And the time has come for the snakes to find new homes.
There are so many things out there that I want to experience. I guess I want to be happy when life comes to an end. Not wishing I had tried a little more or done one more thing. It’s the people and experiences that shape us not the car we drive.
To a certain extent I feel selfish talking about these things. I wish I could expend other tips. But I am still trying to work through all this myself and the only way I can do this is write down my ideas and feelings. This could either make my posts a bore to read or someone out there going through the same thing can understand where I am. I think I felt that reading Evans blog. He wrote about it all his life, the drunken stupors and the high of winning a title. We had spoken in a few letters. And had exchanged books. And in that exchange. I might have changed just a little. Take care.