We ran a mile or two. We lifted little rocks in strange ways. We did body-weight exercises. That's enough about that.
I brought a lot of weight with me to the workout this morning (and I don't mean kettlebells). My young friend Nate (26), who suffers from serious mental health issues, has been staying with us this last week, but he went AWOL yesterday after saying he was going for a walk. He was incommunicado until late last night when he finally responded with a text saying only that he was all right, but nothing else. I don't know where he slept last night. He was supposed to get named at Fission this morning.
My morning was brightened at Fission when I saw Canuck and Callahan, since I've gone a few rounds with them (either in person or on Twitter) about some social or political nonsense I can't even seem to remember right now. I'm cognizant of the fact that deliberately showing up to someone's Q is one of the ways an F3 buddy can say "We're still cool." Thanks for that, guys!
At the end of this morning's workout we had an Airborne Mindbender with the "moment of quiet reflection" option. This was the first quiet time of the morning since the mumblechatter was otherwise strong and consistent throughout. Afterwards, I asked the pax if they had thought of something they were worried about or something more positive during the quiet. The responses ranged from deep worry (me, about Nate) to gratitude for a beautiful morning (Canuck) to hyper-awareness (Caesar). I think we can all benefit from such quiet reflections. They are the foundations of meditation, which has certainly greatly improved my life perspective.
At coffeeteria Cousin Eddie offered superb counsel regarding the situation with Nate and I took it all to heart. Sadly, on the way home, I got a text that informed me that Nate used the last of his money to buy a plane ticket to New York City. I don't know why. I can only imagine that the prospects of getting a job and a place to stay overwhelmed him. That's what I had been working on with him. He had only the shirt and shorts he was wearing, his wallet, and his phone. He left all his clothes and personal effects at my house, implying that the decision to go to New York was spontaneous.
I'm forced to accept that I cannot control the outcome for Nate. That was never my role. It breaks my heart to imagine him homeless in New York without any support system or friends, but for my own sanity I have decided to shift my focus elsewhere. I drove my son Grayson to school this morning and as I looked at his shining face in my rear-view mirror, I realized how unbelievably fortunate I am that he is happy, healthy, and facing a wildly optimistic future. The dichotomy of Nate and Grayson made me appreciate the role of serendipity in my life—I'm not more deserving of good fortune than anyone else, but I am the beneficiary of it nonetheless. My fortunes will continue to rise and fall as they always have, but for now I can only feel incredible gratitude and comfort in my fate. I cannot allow disappointment in one aspect of my life to cloud the joy in all the others.
I will always be a friend to Nate (who I was planning on naming "Tolstoy" for his epic-length posts on Facebook), but for now I must let him go to the winds of destiny. Please keep him in your prayers and if you have any ideas or suggestions, I'm open to hearing them. I'm going to go find some other deserving soul who is perhaps in a better place to benefit from my help. Sadly, I don't think I'll have to go very far.
Thanks for letting me use this backblast for such an unconventional purpose—I had no capacity to write anything else this morning. Thanks also to Popcorn and the others at Toby Talk yesterday. It was helpful to my young friend to know that other men are dealing with their own stuff and still trudging forward. Of course, Nate needed to attend more than one and now he doesn't even have that opportunity. If he comes back to town, though, I hope you'll be seeing him again!