when i grow up…

there’s the big hand… and there’s the little hand… both intoxicating to the heart and soul of everything we hold dear to us. time may be the biggest and most infamous serial killer of them all, and a part of me has a strange feeling that father time will never be putting in a request for his last meal on death row. as horrible and suffocating as it is, this world revolves around time. we hear it everyday: “time is money, blah, blah, blah.” as humans we put our time into little demons that used to never exist. instead of walks to the park, we have walks to the copy machine. instead of time with the kids, we have time to get our Mercedes Benz cleaned after dropping our kids off to a plastic lifeless day care center… where our poor children will probably have the a’s, b’s, and maybe c’s thrown down their throats until they can spell “car” and “sky” without hesitation or the will to ask for a capri sun. for once i wish we could live life dreaming, and not thinking.

you see, the truth is… when i grow up… i want to be exactly like who i was when i wasn’t grown up at all.

let’s go back to the glory days. i am not old by any means, but i have had my share of ups and downs. we were all dreamers once. we were all children who had ambitions, dreams, heroes, and love for the world around us. can we all take one minute and go back to those days? i’m serious… think back to what you used to want to be. it will tell you a lot about yourself. the more i have been thinking about it, the more i realize that understanding and believing in your childhood will ultimately help push you in the direction you belong in life.

as a little boy i wanted to be quite a few things…. we all go through stages. i wanted to be batman, an archaeologist, a rock collector, a basketball player, and a teacher. watch this… watch me take everything i wanted to do when i was little, and apply it to my life now. watch the leaves around me turn over, and the pages of my life slowly start to shuffle a bit to the movement of the wind around me.

at 6 years old, i climbed the tallest tree in my backyard. i had on my batman mask, my dad’s black kitchen towel taped to my shoulders as a cape, and a horribly drawn batman logo that i had attempted to draw on with a crayola marker 10 minutes before in the mirror above my bathroom sink. i got a rope, tied it to one of the thickest tree branches, and then tied the other end around my stomach. the last thing i remember was looking up towards the clouds, taking a deep breath, and then pushing my feet off of that old tree. from what my dad tells me, that is when he saw me dangling nearly unconscious from the tree, spinning and hanging by the rope around my stomach. my dad quickly untied me and ran me to the doctor to see if i was okay… crayola batman logo and all. my first attempt at flight had failed. that day i learned that some animals were born with wings to fly… some were not. though this was pretty cut and dry, looking back… there are many other things that i learned, and am learning now, years later, from what i wanted to do when i was a little boy. i’m realizing what it all meant.

an archaeologist is all about adventure, discovery, and self gratification. i used to want to be indiana jones. i wanted to search for treasure, mummies, shrunken heads… anything I could get my dirty little 7 year old hands on. i was innocent, and will never get it back. back then i knew nothing about the stresses of everyday life… nothing about heartbreak, economic downfalls, or anything serious for that matter. if i could apply that knack for adventure and those open eyes to my life now, it could really help. we’re always so worried about coloring in the lines, and staying in the 4 walls that have been put up around us. maybe now i’m sometimes scared to try new things. i’m scared to search for answers when they aren’t clear as day. maybe i worry about what others think and say a little too much. if someone would have told me when i was 7 that digging in my backyard for dinosaur bones was a stupid idea and that i’d never find anything… i probably would have laughed and dug deeper. i could use a little bit of that me now. i could use a little faith and innocence. we all could.

then there’s the rock collector me… collecting every kind of unique rock, stone, gem, and fossil i could find. my favorites were hematite, amethyst, and tiger’s eyes. i loved the unique ones. the ones with the craziest spots, the most interesting shape, or the one that just seemed a little odd. it didn’t matter if they were big, small, dirty, clean, worth a lot, or worth nothing… they were all the same to me. maybe i could use that now. people come in all shapes and sizes, and they should all be looked at through the eyes of someone who sees them all as human beings… not as people with labels or statuses. the other day, i had a 30 minute conversation with a homeless man in a subway in new york city. we laughed, sang along to the black eyed peas together, and talked about life. it was the most i had smiled in awhile. i was laughing out loud. underneath his dirt covered, wrinkled eye lids, i saw a friendly, caring, unique individual who had lost his way on the road of life. if i were 8 years old… he would have been a dirtier, but unique stone, yet he still would have been one of my favorites. he would have been in my box next to the shiny stones that were worth much more than he was… but none of that matters. who cares what people do for a living, what they look like, or what they seem to be from a distance. everyone is unique and has something about them that someone, somewhere can look up to or relate to. every person should be collected in their heart and be seen for all of the qualities that make them who they are, whether they appear to shine or not.

ahhh… the basketball player. can you believe that i once actually thought i had a shot at being the next Michael Jordan!? i idolized kobe bryant. he was my hero. at 11 years old, all i wanted to do was play basketball. i slept with my basketball and took it everywhere. you can learn a lot at 11 years old when you play basketball. when you’re that young and playing, you focus on your team and having a good time. at that age, no one is worried about multi-million dollar gatorade deals, how new your shoes are, or how much tv time you’re going to get on sportscenter. you’re focused on playing hard, giving it your all, and making your teammates better around you. you, your family, and your friends are all a big team. thinking back to the days of laughing and having a good time while creating a stronger bond between them is only going to make you a better, more aware person.

last but not least, i wanted to be a teacher. ever since i was younger i’ve enjoyed helping people. i’ve always been the one that people know they can come talk to about anything and everything. i was fascinated with the idea of the transferring and sharing of knowledge between one person and another. i genuinely just wanted to help other people… i wanted to see people grow and wanted to see them rise to their full potential. i was never the absolute smartest kid at my school, but i knew that i had the patience and courage to try to lead others in finding their strengths, believing in themselves and learning. sometimes now i doubt myself… but putting myself into those shoes that i wore as a child really makes me realize what i have the power to do and how much power a mind and a willing heart really have. we can all be teachers. it doesn’t mean we have to go to college for 6 years and get a degree in education. we can teach by our actions… by doing the right thing. by being good examples and by being there for those in need around us.

what i have grown to understand is that i can be all of those things that i wanted to be back then. i can be a teacher… a mini indiana jones… a geologist… a basketball player…and yes, maybe even batman. take all of those little lessons you’ve learned and plant them. stand back and watch them grow. we can all learn something from ourselves, from our innocence… from the days when we didn’t have set schedules, due dates, or stress. our hearts don’t change when we get older, they just gain a different sensibility of priorities and lists. if we can find the few seconds everyday to think about what our hearts really adore and miss, we can find the true key to happiness. happiness isn’t doing what you are good at, or what you have to do… it’s doing what you want to do and LOVE to do. can’t we just turn our clocks back and breathe for a minute? love isn’t time. love is a smile. i beg you… go back… way back… to when you were younger and didn’t have a care in the world. don’t be afraid to hop into the sandbox, to spill a little juice on your shirt, or to get thrown in time out for a minute or two. that’s all part of the fun. we can all learn from who we used to be… because who we used to be will always be a part of who we are,  and who we will always want to be.

when i grow up… i want to be exactly like who i was when i wasn’t grown up at all.

-alexander michael

ps -i’ve missed you guys.  i’m back.