Monday, September 26, 2016

A Nomadic Youth

A few years ago I met a young man at dinner. He was my waiter. A free spirit. A nomad. A traveler on the road of life. I’ve often wondered what happened to him as he aged in experience and wisdom.

At the time, my guess was that he was in his mid-twenties given all the cities and restaurants in which he said he had worked. He was an oenophile, a gourmand, and an adventurer.

Kind of an Indiana Jones character without the education. I don’t think he went to college, but that didn’t matter to him. He was high on life.

His philosophy was youthful, yet seemingly wise. He shared his hopes and wishes, his dreams too, but none of his worries. I said to him his nomadic life was a great way to spend a few years.

He responded, “it’s a great way to spend a life.”

He many ways he’s right. Life is there for us to enjoy, but then we get caught up in things like responsibilities, earning a living, planning for a future we are never really sure will come and when it does come we’re not the person we thought we be.

I was so surprised when I noticed in my older years; I became my Father. I cleared my throat like him. I walked like him. My hair turned gray like him. I even used his wise phrases in conversation.

I'm glad there are still people out there who see their life as endless and free. We need dreamers and wanderers for they keep the rest of us in a state of wonder.

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