You Gotta Just Keep Moving Forward

Nope, waiting’s not easy. Especially for someone like me. There’s something buried deep inside me that says that if things aren’t quite they way you want them to be, then there’s something that you should be doing to make them that way. Sometimes… well, to quote The Stones, “You can’t always get what you want. But if you try sometimes you just might find you get what you need.” But for now, with regard to this one thing, I’m holding out that what I need is also what I want.
I’m waiting to hear back from a particular theatre in New York. To me, it feels like a perfect fit. The play would be part of a festival there next Spring. I’ve sent them the press kit. I sent a copy of the movie. I sent a couple of emails, trying not to seem too pushy. And they said we’d hear something back this week. Well, it’s Friday. I guess technically we have another day before the week is over. I’m just selfishly hoping they don’t keep the Sabbath. It’s already sundown in New York.
I’ve been emailing Alex’s last email to me back to me every day. (If you’ll remember, Alex is my friend who died on August 7. I found out about it last week.) He ended his email to me with “… universe knows what we need and when. Love, Hug, Kiss, and I miss you too.” Some of you will think it’s weird that I make it so that I get an email from a dead guy every day. I think I just want to make sure I don’t forget the powerful Truth in that message. I see it as Alex’s last gift to me.
I care so deeply about my play. There’s a lot more I want to say through my writing before I make my own transition to the next life, but “The Eyes of Babylon” still is so timely and pertinent– especially now that so many people are under the impression that the Iraq War is over. It’s not over. It will never be over for some of us. And Afghanistan is getting worse and worse as we continue to apply the same logic there.
My God, I’m tired.
I’m tired but I’m not about to stop. When my Drill Instructor put that Eagle, Globe and Anchor into my hand, the title “Marine” was burned into my soul. I’ll never stop trying my best to fulfill that oath. It’s who I am now. Maybe, to one degree or another, it’s who I always was.
At Crossfit today, I felt like my body was just going to say “enough.” I’m going to keep at it and I know I’ll be healthier again but right now, well, it’s just frickin’ hard. And I’m injured. There are about five other Marines, still active, who work out there as well. They’re about twenty years my junior and you wouldn’t believe the places my head takes me when we’re working out together. They are about as fit as a group of young men could be. One of the thousand things that goes through my head is that they might hate that I have that “USMC” branded on my ankle since the workouts are so clearly challenging to me. “That’s a Marine?” I hear them say in my head. Today, I had a 35lb. kettlebell in each hand and we were doing lunges up and down the squad bay… er, make that workout facility. I was shooting sweat and at some point, after I’d stepped out in the lunge and my knee glued itself to the floor, one of the young Marines passed by (putting up his weights because he was done) and said, “You can do it man. Ten seconds of pain. You gotta just keep moving forward.” You gotta just keep moving forward. That’s all I needed to hear. I got the strength from somewhere to stand up and keep going. I do thrive under encouragement. And I know I can do this. All of this. I’m just glad I don’t have to it myself.