Hello from Austin,Cindy, Peter Jr, and I are headed out to the Hill Country for a couple of days to celebrate my 40th. I feel good—much younger than I expected to feel back when I saw people turning 40 as a kid. One lesson I have learned in 40 years is that whenever I do something new, it makes me feel young. There is that uncertain sense you get when you walk into a new place, that second thought you get when you are not sure how something works... when you see something with fresh eyes or try something for the first time. That funny feeling is familiar when you are young, you feel it most days. The world is new and your eyes are wide. But as time passes and you get older, you have to seek out that feeling.I guess it's a bit like exercise. A muscle you have to work. Something that we neglect out of convenience, laziness, or comfort. It's easier to put on that old TV show than pick up a new book, go to that same old restaurant than try a new place, show up at your familiar job vs. pushing yourself to take that leap of faith.But what about the joys of tradition? Well... I have a soft spot for tradition because, for me—it elicits nostalgia—and nostalgia melts my heart. But I'd argue that feeling of nostalgia has more in common with the rush of trying something new than it does with the thoughtless comfort of our daily habits.Why do I dream of driving the dark wooded roads of rural Maryland on a cool fall night...with my hand out of the window...floating with the breeze...an itchy wool sweater scratching my neck, and a song playing loud through the air from my old Subaru's tape player?That moment lives with me because, at the time, it was new. And its newness breathed life into my unspoiled eyes. Twenty-four years later my brain gives me that twinge of nostalgia when the air cools here in Austin... when I see my son looking out the car window... when I go to hold Cindy's hand and feel a scratch from her sweater.The world is waiting for us. There is more to do. More to feel. I just gotta get out there. And if she chooses to be sweet and smile on me, today's new feeling becomes tomorrow's nostalgia... and so it goes.
Young - Pete's Newsletter - Issue #47
Young - Pete's Newsletter - Issue #47
Young - Pete's Newsletter - Issue #47
Hello from Austin,Cindy, Peter Jr, and I are headed out to the Hill Country for a couple of days to celebrate my 40th. I feel good—much younger than I expected to feel back when I saw people turning 40 as a kid. One lesson I have learned in 40 years is that whenever I do something new, it makes me feel young. There is that uncertain sense you get when you walk into a new place, that second thought you get when you are not sure how something works... when you see something with fresh eyes or try something for the first time. That funny feeling is familiar when you are young, you feel it most days. The world is new and your eyes are wide. But as time passes and you get older, you have to seek out that feeling.I guess it's a bit like exercise. A muscle you have to work. Something that we neglect out of convenience, laziness, or comfort. It's easier to put on that old TV show than pick up a new book, go to that same old restaurant than try a new place, show up at your familiar job vs. pushing yourself to take that leap of faith.But what about the joys of tradition? Well... I have a soft spot for tradition because, for me—it elicits nostalgia—and nostalgia melts my heart. But I'd argue that feeling of nostalgia has more in common with the rush of trying something new than it does with the thoughtless comfort of our daily habits.Why do I dream of driving the dark wooded roads of rural Maryland on a cool fall night...with my hand out of the window...floating with the breeze...an itchy wool sweater scratching my neck, and a song playing loud through the air from my old Subaru's tape player?That moment lives with me because, at the time, it was new. And its newness breathed life into my unspoiled eyes. Twenty-four years later my brain gives me that twinge of nostalgia when the air cools here in Austin... when I see my son looking out the car window... when I go to hold Cindy's hand and feel a scratch from her sweater.The world is waiting for us. There is more to do. More to feel. I just gotta get out there. And if she chooses to be sweet and smile on me, today's new feeling becomes tomorrow's nostalgia... and so it goes.