Blood on blood April 20, 2009Posted by David Gillespie in work/life.
I don’t bleed much these days, not like I used to. In high school I would run myself ragged at lunchtime playing basketball, the hot asphalt beying for the blood of anyone who didn’t quite manage to land right. A couple spills I took are fresh in my mind, one in particular had me going head over heels, and arms, shoulders and knees all took a beating, those scars are still evident if you know where to look.
The blood gets drawn from diving into a situation too enthusiastically, it seems like the older we get the better we are at avoiding the scrapes; I’m more likely to cut myself with a kitchen knife or shaving than I am from a missed lay-up. And the cuts and bruises we used to wear with pride get hidden away in shame instead of laid out for the world to see as the badges of honour they once were.
As I am fond of saying, we should jump for the sun. We may not reach it, but at least we get off the ground.
Get out your battle scars, and go in search of more.