Fire Is My Deadly Friend

My mind is rambling tonight, which is not unusual. 12 years at WABX today. Great ride, sometimes bumpy, with a sixteen-month interruption. But with all the changes in radio and in me, I'm looking tonight for a focus of direction in my personal life. The past months have found me spending too much time amidst the ashes of my dreams, licking my wounds. They needed it; that's for damn sure.

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As I began emerging from the shell last year, I foud it most intoxicating to dream. Dreaming fed my inner fire. It gave me inspiration, and a target at which to aim. My dreams, one dream in particular, became oh, so personal, and oh, so embedded as to become part of my psyche.

Dumb idea.

There's no other to say it, my dream was met with ridicule. Blame no one but me. As I was told often, by more than one person, I grabbed at every teasing glipse of sunshine, determined to find the warmth and heat of its promise. I turned a deaf ear to anyone who dared say that I was chasing the wind.

Everyone but me seemed to know there was nothing there. Finally, for my own good, they put me in my place with such ferocity and frigidity that I shrank back into my coccoon. What a familiar place this was to me, with no energy for anything beyond mourning my dreams, and reminding myself how much I despise it when people do things for my own good.

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I often wonder of I am one of those people who needs an imposssible dream, a shining, unreachable goal on which to focus. The one I had is now in ruins. I'm told that the fire that fueled its pursuit came terribly close to incinerating me. I think that's bullshit. But people who refuse to face their fatal flaws always think that any criticism is bullshit.

It's no exaggeration to say I am an addicted to the fire. I need that fire to excel. It's likely that I need it just to survive, if only because I've learned to use it as a reason to go on. I also know it can turn on me, with deadly consequences. It's already come close.

Today's lesson? As with all things in life, I must keep my pasions in moderation. This time last year, I was dreaming high and mighty, and damn, I accomplished miracles. But I also burned bridges -- of which I have few -- and scared away my best and possibly last chance at happily ever after. I know I'll ride the rocket again. I know how to ride; I know how to steer. Now I must learn to govern the throttle.

StevenK

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