A new beginning

Huan told me I should be a writer....Mom said she missed my blogs...I don't know whether it has been the confrontation I had tonight with a pompous idiot "assistant scoutmaster" who is playing God over whether Derek has adequately completed a communications merit badge requirement, or the election, or any one of a number of things, but I have been thinking for quite some time that I need to write again. If nothing else, for my sanity.

In Iraq, I didn't have to search for meaning - purpose and value were abound because every morning you woke up after a night of random incoming shells was a good day. Even the mindless tasks of generating reports served to save lives. Back in the "real world" adults get upset and argue over whether or not a 15 year old has written "enough" of a letter to meet the requirements of a Boy Scout Merit Badge. One could argue that the "real world" is back in the combat zone.

It is why PSTD is such a phenomenon - not that trauma isn't real....it is too real. Winston Churchill (the US Navy officer, not the British PM) once wrote that "there is nothing so exhiliarating as to be shot at without result". It is the meaningless BS that we all insulate ourselves with in order to make it through the day without killing someone who desperately needs to meet their maker. Whether that insulation is self righteous indignation, self importance, paperwork, process or scotch... it all serves the same purpose.

It has been two years ago this month that I finally and permanently returned from the war zone. I am now fifteen pounds heavier, slower, greyer, and older. Age is of course relative - I am so in awe of my sister. Here I am dealing with my minimal problems - the worst of which has to do with 401Ks, retirement plans, where the paycheck will be spent in terms of credit cards, and making sure that the "lawn service" is still within our budget - and after so much pain of miscarriage, she mentioned today that she was able to run two miles at a nine minute pace while dealing with a raging headache. In the meantime, yours truly - the "warrior" Naval Officer, continues to "pass" the Physical Fitness Test, while barely being able to maintain a 10 minute pace on the treadmill for a mile and a half.....

I guess that a piece of me is having to deal with the reasons I stay in this organization. A piece of me will die this January as I am forced to acknowledge "Chairman O" as our commander in chief. Granted, I think his overall performance and success (or failure) will result in the pendulum swinging back to the right and a re-invigoration of the conservative movement. I question however whether or not what I do and where I will leave the Navy in three years will mean anything. The short answer of course is obvious - short of having a ship or building named after you, one's legacy has far more to do with those you leave behind and what you have taught them...even if your career only serves to mark the shoals for others to avoid. The longer answer has to do with your own personal reasons for sticking it out in the long run. I am still wrestling with that. Has there been a purpose to the last 16 years? Am I punching a clock or am I making a difference? Paper or plastic? Do these questions even matter?

In the end, I guess it only has to do with those who know you best, and what they think of the effect you have had on their lives. I am working on that, and have much time to work on that. I cling for the moment to the goals I try to meet - most notably, I will be in better shape (insert definition here - economic, physical, or otherwise) at forty, than at thirty. XM has a new channel - the Margaritaville Channel. Changes in Latitude, Changes in Attitude comes to mind -

So many nights I just dream of the ocean
God I wish I was sailin again
Oh, yesterdays over my shoulder
So I cant look back for too long
Theres just too much to see waiting in front of me
And I know that I just cant go wrong