There I was this morning at 7 AM sitting at a table just outside Juan Pelota Cafe. I was enjoying my cup o’ Major Taylor joe when I heard my mind saying, Ready, wrestle.

What that phrase triggered was a memory flash of a scene from my Act 1 . . . me as a high school junior in gym class one February day.

We were nearing the end of a unit on wrestling and were having a weigh-in to determine weight classes for a class wrestling tournament.

I weighed in at 168 pounds.

One other person weighed in at the exact same weight.

When my friends heard that news, they started laughing. They knew the history behind the person I’d be wrestling.

My 168 pounds was pretty lean.

Bobby K, who I would be wrestling, carried his 168 pounds in a muscular package.

Bobby K was from an area of town referred to as Watertown. He was very street wise.

Me . . . I was not at age 16, soon to be 17, very street wise. I was much more of a runner and a hurdler then a wrestler. I was much more comfortable performing on the stage then on a wrestling mat.

I recall thinking to myself, Bobby K likes me. I hope he remembers this when we’re on the wrestling mat and Coach Pierson calls out, “Ready, wrestle.”

The day arrived. My friends were having much fun with me, taking bets as to how soon Bobby K would pin me to the mat. I was determined that would not happen.

With all my might and with all of my strength, I survived period 1.

With all my might and with all of my strength, I survived period 2.

Shortly into period 3, Bobby K had me in a tight hold. I struggled and struggled, but could not get out.

Suddenly I became aware that my mouth was in Bobby K’s foaming arm pit. His sweat was rolling into my mouth.

In a flash, I surrendered and said to myself, It’s OK to get pinned by Bobby K.

Bobby K won.

Coach Pierson acknowledged me for a job well down.

My friends were in awe as to what I had accomplished and were congratulating me for continuing into the third period and holding up as long as I did . . . especially with my head positioned frequently in the foaming arm pit.

And so here I am years later and in my life’s Act 3, remembering so vividly the Ready, Wrestle scene from Act 1.

Today I followed my morning coffee at Juan Pelota Cafe with a swim at Deep Eddy Pool. The water was low in the deep pool, so I swam in an adjacent pool.

A signal of my willingness to adjust and go with life’s flow; knowing when it’s best to surrender and accept life and what’s showing up.

And what’s showing up for me now is this inner knowing, sensing, that it’s time for me to move.

I look around my home and realize in the six plus years I’ve lived here I’ve collected some stuff. I realize it’s time to clean, sort, and streamline and see what awaits me next.

I’m aware I’ve been struggling in some ways to keep on going using this home in NW Austin as my home base.

What’s next?

I’ll find out.

It starts, however, by simply going to the closets, beginning to sort and streamline, preparing the way to that sweet space awaiting my cat, Spooner and me.

Loving you,

Robert,  aka Bob