Several weeks ago, my dad presented me with a birthday card. Attached to the back of the card was an additional piece of paper posing three questions — questions that he and I are both still working on answering together, in what he likes to refer to as our “marathon” years of life. He at 62, me at 26.
Here they are.
When to lead and when to follow?
I tend to think of this question more in regard to, when do you throw yourself out into the line of fire and risk everything, and when do you sit quietly and watch things unfold as they may? I can’t say I have an answer as far as where to draw the line here, but what I can say is that if standing up and igniting or fanning a flame equates with freedom, I’ve stayed seated far too many times.
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