Phoenix Rising

This spring, I find myself experiencing a personal renewal. It’s actually more like a phoenix rising, and you can’t rise from the ashes if you haven’t been burned. Come April Fools’ Day, I’ll once again be a Bergen County resident—it will be like coming home. Immediately after I graduated from Bergenfield High School in the 80s, my parents once again uprooted us and moved to Middlesex County, and I was reluctant to go because of the fun I had in my high school heyday. I thought that it would go on indefinitely. Perhaps the move was for the best. I may have very well averted some personal tragedy by having some distance between me and my high school stomping grounds. Looking back, I see how it was all connected, and especially the purpose each life event served.

I later migrated back north after meeting a young lady from the Montclair area during those fun, early days of the Internet. That relationship was short-lived, but I soon met Pat, and we married after cultivating a wonderful friendship. In case you missed it, last year, Pat and I ended our 11-year marriage and continue on our respective journeys as good friends for the rest of this life and beyond. I am very fortunate to have been married to such a beautiful soul.

It’s all good. I love and crave the adventure of not knowing exactly where this life is taking me. Most plans typically have a way of changing on this long and winding road. I have a sense that I am now moving into a larger sand box—without any edges—perhaps as vast as the beach itself.

I’m sure this world will continue to devise more ways to amaze me. It always has.