When I emerged from the hazy days of my youth, it was as if out of the cocoon of a dream, never to return to the convenient illusions of ideals not thought through, into this now world of genuine consequence. In my youth, I spoke much, thinking I had a message to say; but however I try, I cannot for the life of me remember what was quite so important. I find there are times I have trouble believing any of it happened, the actions of back then, for I cared so little what I did, burned all that energy spinning disconnected wheels. And I never did find out why, though that was never my question, merely an excuse to shout out of turn. (Too, I thought I knew why, already.) And I recall I believed I’d never regret anything, but now, I find at times I regret everything….

A “however” of modest size does come to mind, I must say, when I think along these lines: interestingly, the sum of whatever I did or didn’t do, it all did lead me here. Somehow, I began understanding things along the way. Perhaps it is all accidental, the little wisdom I have, but I know enough to hold onto what is worth something in this life — especially the serendipity. This sight I have, I think I have come by honest enough means: I learned to respect the fire by getting burned over and over. Sometimes, such is the only way you ever learn. Remember, now: I’m not saying that the fire is bad, or even to be feared, it’s just that growing up is more and more learning how small you are. And just how big that fire out there really is. Wakes you up.