I was spending a lazy day, and nursing a very sick kitty, and reminiscing of long ago days, before the internet, when books had to be ordered from a physical, walk-in bookstore. The anticipation of the the phone call that it has arrived, the excitement of opening it to discover the world within; it was this book that led to an eventual collection of over 500  750 reference books, and a Journey with many side paths to explore.

The Journey has taken me to places and given me opportunities that I could have never imagined at the time, discovering people that I admired and aspired to be like; the thought never dared enter my head that I would someday actually meet and befriend my then (and now) inspirations.

The Path has been, and still is, filled with joys and disappointments, but I knew the second that I started reading this book, that I didn’t want to be a structural steel draftsman my entire life. I wanted to be like “those” people in the books, a way of living that I could only dream about, but not having the courage at the time to step onto that Path. It was a romantic dream, a thing that had no perils, no bumps; in a word, idyllic.

Then it came time to travel that Path; a leap of courage that I’m not so sure I could muster today. The reality is that it is not the perfect life my younger self imagined.

Yet somewhere, somehow, in a way I still can’t fathom, I accomplished things never anticipated, nor even dared to think possible.

But…at some point, I forgot to tend the fire within. I fell prey to my own doubts and fears.

And they are hungry beasts.

Rediscovering this long forgotten book in my library revealed that the fire is not dead, but still lives – a smoldering thing – waiting for the breath that will reawaken it.

I’m rereading this book, now, and it is taking me back to that time, those feelings, and perhaps even back to my roots. The younger, more naive me is replaced by a wiser – yet still somewhat lost and jaded – older me, but the child still lives within.

She just needs some coaxing.