(A tip of the hat to The Captain, to whom I am forever indebted in more ways than one. Love ya, man.)
I’m with everyone
and yet not
Now that the deed is done and Tony Eury Jr. can no longer be used as the whipping boy for all that ails Dale Earnhardt Jr., time to take a look at the big picture. For this, indulge me using allegory.
Someone decides to become a runner. It’s not an easy choice because of everything that’s involved, yet it’s an easy decision. They come from a long lineage of runners. They love to run. And so they select continuation of the lineage, the heritage.
They decide they want to run the mile. The goal therefore becomes running a sub-four minute mile. Toward this they start training and working. It’s a lot of work. While lineage helps in that they’ve got the best trainers plus workout equipment available anywhere, they alone have to do the work needed to reach their goal. No one can or will run their race for them. No one.
After a time they get in shape to where they can run that sub-four minute mile. They now believe they’re ready to compete with other runners who also have trained and worked toward running a sub-four minute mile. And so they enter their first meet in the beginners league…
… only to find the competition has trained to run a sub-ten minute mile.
Naturally, they whip up on the other runners. What’s more, everyone who watches loves them no matter what they do. Life’s pretty good.
Or so it would seem.
I’m with everyone and yet not
Just wanted to be myself
The runner wonders what’s the deal. Lots of questions; answers not nearly as easy to come by. Should they continue to train hard to maintain that sub-four minute mile for which they worked long and hard despite the competition not being anywhere near that level? Do people love them for them or their heritage? No denying it’s lots of fun; sure do enjoy the play time and money that comes with it. But still they wonder. Are they as good as the people say they are, or are they shining brightly solely as compared to the people they’re whipping up on? Questions, questions. Questions to self. Questions of self. And yet they continue to run.
Swallowed
Followed
Heavy about everything
But my love
Now it’s time to step up to the big leagues. Sure, the competition is going to be a lot tougher. In fact, it’ll be the first time they’ve faced real competition. Still, it’s something they have to do. They want to prove they belong. They want to prove they’re good enough. They want to prove they’re not there riding the coattails of their heritage. Sure, they still want to have fun, maybe take it easy now and then. That doesn’t mean they don’t want “it.” They simply don’t see “it” as something to obsess over. And so they enter the competition. And they do all right. Certainly not like it was before, where everything was comparatively easy. But still, all right.
For a while, anyway.
Swallowed
Hollowed
Sharp about everything
Except yourself
Suddenly, the runner is no longer part of the heritage. They are the heritage. Now in addition to those who love them no matter what, they have those demanding they be their definition of who and what the heritage was. Swell.
Still, they do all right. Not the best, but far from the worst. They win their share of races. Life’s still good despite the expectations. Good enough is… well, good enough.
Until one day when they discover it no longer is.
Piss on self-esteem, forward, busted knee
Sick head, blackened lungs and I’m a simple selfish son
The questions they once thought were behind them are now coming back amplified. Are they still capable of winning? Have they lost their edge? They still love their fun time and toys, but do they love them too much and they’ve become an impediment to their running? They’ve never liked being told what to do. Okay, maybe they’ve been a bit spoiled, a bit pampered. Do they need to somehow divest themselves of that and admit they need someone firmly guiding and directing them? They can in all likelihood coast, for at least a while, on what they’ve done and their heritage and the promise of what they might do… well, maybe not that. No one seems to believe in what they might do anymore. In fact, they’re not sure they believe in that anymore.
They’re not sure they believe in anything anymore.
Swallowed followed, heavy about everything but my love
Swallowed oh no, I’m with everyone and yet not
I’m on everyone and yet not, I’m on everyone and yet not,Got to get away from here, got to get away from here
Got to get away from here, got to get away from here
I miss the one that I love a lot, I miss the one that I love a lot
I miss the one that I love a lot
Somewhere deep inside, they still love to run. At least they think so. Or hope so. They’re not sure. Has that love been strangled past recovery? Has their reacting to the demands of others by painting them with the same brush applied to their longstanding dislike of being told what to do become manifested in no longer caring about when, how or if they run? Have they been thinking they’ll show “them” by consciously or subconsciously sabotaging their running regardless of the personal, let alone professional cost?
They know this is far bigger than running. They need answers to the questions. Now. They know they need peace, and healing, and learning how to accept authority’s role in their life.
I wonder if they know how and where to find these things.
I earnestly pray they find or reembrace the One, the only One, who offers these things.
For only then will they rediscover their love of racing.
Only then.
We too miss the one that we love a lot. Hope he returns soon.
[video http://www.diecast-dude.com/gac/bush_swallowed.flv nolink]
