To The Core

I grew up a city kid. As typical Brooklynites my brothers and I loved sports. From sun up to sun down we’d spend our days around the corner on East 34th street playing stick ball or street football. I was 12 when my parents purchased that house - Dad still lives there. I can remember exploring the house with my brothers the day we moved in. When we reached the garage it was like finding Ali Baba’s treasure! We were overjoyed to find boxes and boxes filled with little league baseball equipment. We had uniforms, balls, bats, bases, mitts and even catcher’s gear. For three pre-teen boys it was like hitting the lottery.

I remember this one particular day, my brother Robert and I were playing catch in the alley back behind our house. We took one of the brand new baseballs from our treasure trove and practiced taking grounders on asphalt for hours. It was great fun. After many hours of fun filled abuse this once shinny, spotless and slick baseball had given up the ghost. The ball’s cover was torn revealing it’s stringy guts. I couldn’t have been more excited! I had to discover what was in the center of a baseball.

I sat on the floor, right there in our back alley and furiously tore the remnants of that poor tattered ball apart until I found the small, hard, red core at it’s center.

Hmmm… the core, what’s at the core? I’ve been thinking about that lately.

Sometimes I feel like that abused baseball… tattered, torn and well used with my guts hanging out. Maybe times like these are the right time to inspect my personal core and see what’s really in there?

If I peel back all my layers what would I discover at my core? Beyond the physical part of my nature, beyond my education and experiences, beyond my titles, positions and responsibilities, beyond my relationships… what’s really in there? What is my small, hard, red core composed of?

I see Passion

Passion for God ~ Passion for People ~ and Passion for Freedom.

What’s at your core?

© Tom Zawacki 2007