Michael Phelps Makes Me Phear the Phuture

I like the Olympics. Not a surprising or unique statement, I know, but I do. I love watching these "humans" (they're more like machines) compete and win in these events played at the highest possible level. It does a lot of things to me. The Olympics...

...inspire me,
...entertain me,
...challenge me,
...give me joy,
...and strike deep fear into me.

I guess the last one needs an explanation.

When I watch Michael "8" Phelps, for example, I not only see someone who has mastered a sport and who has gone great lengths to mold his body and mind to succeed and destroy anyone in his path, but I also see someone who has found exactly what he was made for.

I think that in a way, all humans are like shaped blocks. We're all different shapes, so we all fit different holes. My biggest fear in life is never finding what I was made for, never finding where I fit.

I see all these athletes performing and succeeding at the premier stage of their sports and a part of me gets jealous, and then that same part becomes afraid.

Some of these athletes were born with the precise blend of physical and mental traits, not to mention parental circumstances, to enable them to find their fit. Others had to hack away at themselves, and forcibly mold their bodies and minds in order to fit into their spots so well. Either way, they've managed to find their fit in life.

When I look back at my life it's hard to point out many times (maybe even any times) when I've lunged headlong into trying to find where I really fit. I've never been quite deliberate about it. But this coming fall, I hope to try it out.

I just really, really hope that I'll find what I was made to do.