My wife and I have been listening to the new Macklemore album.
One of the newer tracks is called Good Old Days. The chorus goes like…
I wish somebody would have told me babe, that one day these would be the good old days…
It has me thinking back to the days when Sacks and Butcher and Foof and Cat and I were all coming to work in that dingy ass office on West Atlantic.
We were all broke, we were all pretending to be way cooler than we were, and we were having the time of our lives.
I think about the struggle of the last 10 years. I think about the ups and the downs and the times when I would go for walks by myself thinking about quitting. I would think of all the self-doubt and I think of the conversations I had in my head about going back to Philly and going back to doing construction.
But I still look back at those days with nothing but smiles and memories of joy. Those were the good old days.
But the real kicker is, who’s to say that ten years from now, these won’t be the good old days?
Maybe I’ll be sitting with some kids on my lap and laughing with my wife about when we randomly moved to Nashville without a clue what we were doing or a backup plan. Maybe we will look back at those days with great memories, wishing we could go back and revisit.
Every day should be a struggle. Every success is predicated by hardship and doubt. We shouldn’t wish for it to be any other way, because that’s the shit that gives us juice.
That’s where the joy comes from. It’s the memories and the experience and the journey. There’s beauty in that. There’s beauty in the struggle.
Appreciate it while you can.