I touched down almost half a century ago. I was a pretty good kid. I went to school, got good grades, got a trade, and afterward had a good job. I was married, had kids, and bought the house with a white picket fence. I became a productive part of society. I did everything according to the manual! Why am I not satisfied?

Long before now , I realized that those were just things, or acts performed for the sake of things. Could I take those things with me when I die? No. Would those things be squandered when I was gone? Who knows? And I guess, really, who cares? Not me. I only care about the stories that I’ll be able to tell in the retirement home. Do I have a story about jumping from a plane at 18,000 feet? What about a story of hiking to the top of a volcano, or scuba diving with sharks? Maybe of racing a motorcycle through serpentine curves, or taming the rapids in West Virginia? Well, yes to the last two, but who’s counting?

I was put on this Earth to explore it. To experience it- To embrace it!