Trapeze

I graduated college as an English-writing major.


One could draw several conclusions from that statement.

Such as: I want be known as an English-major, I love reading, I was all ready a skilled writer before college, I am a very eclectic gentlemen, I plan on writing books for a living, I plan on editing sentences for the rest of my life, or I want to be stuffed in a cubical writing proposals for grants as my career. I could go on, but I'll stop here.

There are a few minor truths in those statements, but in fact - none really represent. I chose to be an English major because I struggled with it in early on in life. There were a few amazing people that were labeled as teachers. You know, those people that are so much more than their profession. They developed, in me, an interest in writing. I figured what better way to become better at something than to dive into the deepest end possible. Even after college, I'm still not a great writer. I can see the ceilings set above me built from my natural talent, and that is okay with me - because I enjoy it. I was shown the real reason to write: To explore and discover one's self more.

The following is on of my favorite poems I wrote in college. This poem is nearly a perfect metaphor for my life and blogs to come.

Trapeze,

If I were to slip
To the net, I would fall,
Yet I soar; I release my grip

Though every swing might mean I fail.
It only takes one hand to sail,

Upward and through the mystic air
From one stunt to another, from here to there.

The nets hang below
I've trained too hard to need the rope.
I let go. I hang onto hope.