Post #11: Who Am I?

Many years ago, I was invited to join the cast of a dinner show presented by Modesto Performing Arts. It was in February 1981 and I turned 15 years old on one of the performance nights. All the other performers were adults so it was an honor to have them invite me to perform with them; there are some very funny stories to tell about that show and the rehearsal process...and the costumes!!!!!

A few lyrics from one of the songs we sang in that show have remained stuck in my memory and they return to haunt me from time to time. Through the power of the internet, I just found the entire lyric and have quoted it below.

From time to time, I feel that this lyric accurately displays some of the feelings I have about my life. At 42, it's normal for a man to question where he is and whether he's really making a difference in the world. I can't help but wonder how my life would have been different if I had made better, freer choices when I was much younger.

Would I be here? Would I be doing what I do? Largely, I must admit that I don't think I would be here and I'm almost certain that I wouldn't be doing what I do.

What happens if you think that, many years ago, when you encountered two roads diverging in a yellow wood, that you took the easy, well-traveled road and you wish you could go back and take the less-traveled road...the one that makes all the difference?

Who Am I?

The buildings reach up to the sky
The traffic thunders on the busy street
The pavement slips beneath my feet
I walk alone and wonder "Who am I?"

I close my eyes and I can fly
And I escape from all this worldly strife
Restricted by routine of life
But still I can't discover "Who am I?"

I long to wake up in the morning
And find everything has changed
And all the people that I meet
Don't wear a frown

But every day is just the same
I'm chasing rainbows in the rain
All the dreams that I believe in
Let me down

Maybe I'm reaching far too high
For I have something else entirely free
The love of someone close to me
Unfettered by the world that hurries by
To question such good fortune, who am I?