Speed of life

I am at a baseball game watching my 10 year old nephew play baseball.  The sights and sounds bring back such nostalgia, that I can actually remember standing in the batters box where a new generation of kids are standing. Facing the same fears, a pitcher with some control issues. Back then it seemed every pitch came in so fast. I remember being scared to death of getting hit, the fear of striking out and missing my chance of glory.
My coach couldn’t stand a batter striking out watching a pitch. He always wanted us to take our swings. I can remember how intimidating standing in that box was, closing my eyes and swinging for the fence, hoping to make contact.
But now 30 years later, as a spectator, everything seems so slow. I see the ball more clearly as a 40 yr. old than I ever did as a player.
I can’t help but wonder what’s different? Maybe is that now, I have been through and experienced real fear, maybe it’s that I know the worst pain is usually emotional. Failure is only momentary, a new at bat is inevitable. Maybe it’s knowing success can’t be kept on a scoreboard. Maybe I just took the time to slow down, opened my eyes, and actually saw the ball.
People keep telling me, time moves faster the older you get. I don’t buy that. Time never changes, only your perspective.

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