Striking Past

My friend put a Valentine’s concert I Facebook. All these classic songs beautifully sung by her and her guitar strumming boyfriend, melting my heart. And they got to an old favorite

I would walk 500 miles and
I would walk 500 more

I’m listening to her sweet voice and thinking how strange it is to hear a woman sing that very male love song. Granted, she’s harmonizing with her sweetie but even a that little bit of a shift changed it.

…Just to be the man who walk a thousand
Miles to fall down at your door

My daughter has been taking karate and after watching her, I joined an adult class. Her sensei has all the little warriors shout out in unison:


In my class, I do the same. This is not a class for being cute. The teachers ask me for more than I knew I could give. Last week I came to Wednesday class worn out from all the thinky work at my job, ready to do my best. I was weighed down and I knew it, but I was going to power through.

I only tripped a little at the beginning and I kept going. At the very end, I tripped hard. It took a long time to get up. It hurt and I felt so stupid. I had overestimated my best, and hurt myself.

In the Proclaimers song, he overpromised. Not likely to be called upon to make good on his thousand-mile commitment. The point is he will go to the end of his strength for her.

Past what is reasonable. Pushing through the blocks.

I learned after my fall how to get up and keep going after I overshot. Doing my best does me getting up and trying again. Failing, but going for the long haul.

Showing up with love for someone else, doing my best for the one I love or even my own self is what this looks like.

Walking 500 miles and walking 500 more. Or like my Sensei teaches, don’t just strike the target, strike past it and leave all the force where I mean it to go.

I’m not going to be successful every time. But even after I trip, I can get up and do it again and the second strike has a good chance of landing. That’s how love goes when I do my best.