“More than anything, I want to see you go
Take a glorious bite out of the whole world”
I was running and Snow Patrol’s “You Could Be Happy” came through my headphones. I was tempted to skip the song because it’s not very upbeat for a run and it used to have a tendency to make me cry. Instead, I just listened as I tuned out the pitter patter of my feet on the pavement. I’d stayed in bed longer than most Saturday mornings, constantly checking The Weather Channel app on my phone, waiting for the sun to come out of hiding and make the temperature rise to a degree I could convince myself was a bit more bearable. Because of all that I was able to see the sunlight shining through what we have to show for fall foliage in Tallahassee. Tall trees, wide limbs that stretch out to cross the street like arms extending hands to shake hello, fill my line of vision. Sunlight trickled through the leaves, lighting them aglow with yellows and orange if you look close enough. All of this gave me just enough to think about to distract from the time on the clock. I always thought that line was, “more than anything I want to see you grow.” Funny that it’s not, because it’s always had a weight of meaning to it while I’ve listened. For years I’ve had a few people in mind when I hear that song. Maybe not anyone who actually walked away from me, but people who ties have been severed, (or at the last seriously frayed.) I’ve thought about their potential for life, their ability with a magnetic personality to light up a room, the kinds of smiles that stop strangers in their tracks, and the happiness you want someone else to find going out on a limb and finding the most out of what life has to offer. I guess this whole time, (kind of like a Taylor Swift song) I’ve been singing a long with these people in mind. But this time, it occurred to me…maybe, I’m singing to myself? These songs aren’t about these other people anymore. While I still want them to be happy, I want myself to take a bite out of the world. I want to venture out and reach this unknown potential. At least attempt to do so. See what happens in the process. It’s always the journey that creates the memorable experience anyway. The getting there, and not where you get. My brother was in New Orleans this weekend. I’ll tell you, I may have been a little bit envious because my wanderlust bug has been on high alert lately. I want to feel the miles on the map between where I am now, and somewhere else. By plane, by car, just that freeing feeling of adventure (and maybe a little bit of escape.) But even more I’d like to create a situation, where I don’t feel a constant need for that, not the perpetual nagging from the inside begging for a little escape. And all that seems attainable, I just have to figure out what changes to make. In the mean time it’s a step that I’m serenading myself for a change, and maybe I should recognize my own potential before it dries up and disappears.