Right Now – Because YOU Matter

I am honored beyond belief to share this amazing #MakeitHappen story by my friend (and Loving the Bike Army General), Eric Hutchins.  All I did was ask if he’d write a post about how the song “Right Now” changed his life, and what I got in response was this incredibly emotional and inspiring story.

Right Now – Because You Matter

by Eric Hutchins

I was born on the island of St Croix a long time ago, and was blessed with a barefoot, surfer-boy, garage band life that people would kill for. I was raised by strong, tough parents who instilled a code of ethics in such a deep groove that it was not “this is how you should live” but “this is how you will live.” Integrity, dependability, and hard work were not choices.

It was clear to me from early on that what I thought about and believed in was not like that of others around me. I was certain of two things. The first was that there was someone “out there” for me, one soul that was meant to be with mine, and there was only one. I could see her when I closed my eyes. And the second was that I would die at age 42.

Fast forward to a marriage and a beautiful son born when I was twenty, followed by two amazing daughters, a steady life of hard work, raising kids, doing triathlons, playing in rock bands, buying things and trying to consistently do what was right, whatever that was. By my mid 30’s I led a life that if viewed from the outside would have caused envy in many people, but I was slowly dying, and I knew it. People that knew me then now say, “but you seemed so . . . but I never knew . . .” Really, do you think people walk around with a neon sign flashing their darkest thoughts? Is that the show we normally put on for the world? Not me anyway. But I digress.

During the turmoil of lies and angst that is the end of a marriage, my parents told me “you can’t do this to your children (two of whom were already adults),” you are “the most selflessly dedicated person we know.” An interesting thing for parents to praise in their child, selfless dedication. But there it was. I was to have no self. And I didn’t, and the world was black.

Being the son of those parents, I put my head down and pulled on the sled, my world got slowly darker and my vision narrowed. I never will be the type to harm myself, I simply felt that at some point my heart would decide it didn’t need to beat anymore, and I was OK with that. In order not to hurt, I encased myself in armor, only eye slits open to the outside, and trudged forward. I had become someone I didn’t like. I was mean, and I was cold.

By my late 30’s, 42 was around the corner, but I didn’t care. My kids were smart and strong and soon would be fine without me. My marriage was over, acknowledged by both of us and official but for the paperwork. My job no longer mattered. My obligations were almost fulfilled and my reason, the one who was meant for me, had not appeared. I was alone and the hourglass was almost empty.

And then . . .

I met her. Yeah, that HER. My second thought was “fine time for you to show up, you’re too late, you can’t come in.” My first one was “oh my god it’s HER, I was right, and that means I am right, on that dead-at-42 thing too. But there was a spark, a tiny flame in a Carlsbad Cavern of cold and dark, and as much as I tried to look away, the flame would not go out. (Here’s how she tells the story.)

Music has always run through me like blood in my veins and air in my lungs. There are songs that are imprinted within me so clearly that I don’t need speakers to hear them. One of those is “Right Now” by Van Halen. OK, stop smirking and keep reading. I knew the music to the note, I knew the lyrics without ever pausing to understand them. Until I was 42.

I can be as annoyed as the next person by Hallmark card clichés, but I now believe that you truly are not able to love someone in a REAL way, unless you love yourself. My her taught me that you have to believe that you matter, that your heart beats for a reason, that your dreams also deserve to come true. She taught me that while giving is wonderful, receiving is essential, otherwise you will end up empty, with nothing left to give.

And the flame grew.

I am now nearly a decade into my second life. I love someone completely. I am whole. I have purpose. I believe that I matter. And while I am not perfect and still stumble from time to time, I am grateful. Grateful beyond my capability of expressing it. I am grateful for every minute of my life, just as it was, and as it is. I regret nothing, not one choice, not one bedtime story, swim meet or football game. I mean this not only because of the children that came from those choices, who I dearly love, but also because if I had done things differently, then I would not be where I am now, and where I am now is exactly where I was always meant to be.

By her side, Right Now.