Bird is Broken

I went for a long walk at three a.m..

The toxins in my legs from an intense cycling workout a day ago have them on fire.

It didn't help much.

But it reminded me of my journey.

The Beatles in my ear buds helped as well.

Every one of their composed songs is deeply personal. They speak to each individual soul. That was their magic.

Yes, even "Helter Skelter".

Paul sat down to write a song to outdo The Who in creating the raunchiest hard rock song to that date.

He couldn't help injecting meaning into it.

"Do you don't you want me to make you?
I'm coming down fast but I'm miles above you!"

Think.

John Lennon hated "And Your Bird Can Sing", calling it meaningless drivel.

Far from it.

As I walked, it reminded me of my journey and everyone I encounter.

I don't honestly give a shit about "your bird".
I only care about the person deep inside you.
And,
"When your bird is broken, I'll be 'round,

I'll be 'round."

It has taken me fifty-seven years but finally I have arrived.

I am where my grandfather Anthony G. Sciolino was.

I absolutely do not give a shit who "you" are, what things you've aquired, the power, the money, the stuff.

Accomplishments?

Okay, yes. But the deeply personal, the deeply selfless, the deeply truly meaningful one's...not so much the career stuff...that has been done by so many and for such trivial reasons. Yet, if you managed to "get there" intact, the same core that began the journey...good for you!

Otherwise, the bum on the street gets the same attention from me as the CEO of a major conglomerate. 

That is my accomplishment. Maybe my only one. I like to think I have chosen friends who have that same accomplishment. If they are truly a friend of mine, with as little as I have in terms of stuff and career, then they have.

I think of the "new" race bike I'm building.

It's not "stuff" to me.

It's value at the end of the day has ZERO to do with showing off some exotic aquirement amongst a phalanx of boasting peacocks in a peleton of "accomplished" men and women.

It's value instead is me alone on an open road, miles from the next human body and a galaxy from a shallow soul. It's value is in that one-hundredth mile knowing, frighteningly so, that I shall end the century in a furious sprint...not to impress another, but to look myself in the mirror as I arrive home barely able to cross the threshold and know that this beautiful machine helped me do it.

I show my progress on Facebook; all the rides, all the falls, all the drama and the new bike not because "my bird can sing" but because my true friends know it's not about the destination for me and never has been.

It has always been about getting there.