What happens when you cannot find joy in it anymore?

"What happens when you cannot find joy in your past times anymore? That sounds more shallow than I'm intending. This weekend was my annual paintball weekend in east Colorado. I have been to this event for four years in a row. I have had fun almost every year but this one. I cannot say if it is the event itself, or the fact that I don't find pleasure in my past time anymore."

I wrote this statement down right after I had gotten back after a really unpleasing day of a weekend long scenario paintball game. I never published the comment for a reason that as of right now escape me. I think that I may have worried that someone close to me that helped me attend the scenario game would be offended by my lack of appreciation. Since that day, I have played paintball only one other time. I did have fun, but as always I played at a cost. Paintball is not a sport that I can share with anyone other than my friends who play paintball. My wife doesn't want to go out the games just to sit in the parking lot waiting for my to come off the field. My sons at this point are not old enough to participate, and I really don't think that I want my oldest son getting into paintball. He would be so damaged if he ever were to get hurt in a game. My son would also not really understand the paintball game and a real battle. That means paintball pulls me away or at least drives a wedge in between my and my family. It means I never feel that good after the game as I do when I'm going to the game.

The result of all the factors listed is that for a while I have been thinking about ending my paintballing pastime. I've separated myself for paintball before. When I was a senior in high school I sold all my paintball gear because I stopped hanging out with anyone who played paintball. It's no fun when your the only one of your friends still holding on to something everyone else has given up. I moved on and grew up. Through circumstances of life I began to play paintball again during my early married life. I spent a lot of money to get where I am today. I really don't think that I can say that very much of the money I spent was worthwhile.

So, now I am at the same crossroad that I was back in my senior year of high school. It feels a bit like I circled round this long loop in life, and now I'm stumbling back on to the territory that found myself in all those years ago. What really scares me this time is that it feels like I am going to give up on paintball forever. It sounds a bit melodramatic to say that I might never again play the sport, but I knew this day was coming. I knew for sometime now that there would be an end to my paintballing. I never wanted to be that old guy trying to keep up with kids my children's age. I knew that I would never wanted to play past a certain point in my life. I just didn't realize that point was coming a lot sooner than I thought. I've been in this territory before like I said. I am not coming back here again. This time I'm setting out for parts unknown planning to never loop back here again. And I am sad to say that statement.

No, I am not sad because I have to give paintball up. I'm sad because it's really the end of time in my life. The same statement can be said about many other turning points in life. You feel joy and nostalgia about the experience, but you are also sad that you not going back to the familiar. But things change and I would never trade experiences for youth any day.

Hard to put into words

The weekend seems to have passed by in a blink again. I have a couple of different takes on how the weekend went for me. Either it was a great end to a great week in which I made love to my wife nearly everyday, or this weekend was the culmination in one long frustrating week of battling with my oldest daughter over chores and basic morals. I am not sure which one of these two topics to take head-on. I have been sitting here for a couple of minutes trying to decide what to write about. I have been listening to my Pandora stations trying to let the music decide or at least set the mood. It was not working at all. So now I am just streaming my consciousness as best I can.

It's been bothering me for a while now the idea of writing a story on Google Docs program. I have been trying to decide if I trust Google enough not to steal from me. I know that I am not going to write the next great American novel but it bothers me that I am using a service for free and storing my creative work on their servers for free also. I have a strange feeling like somewhere in the millions of lines of legalize that I agreed to when I signed up with Google I gave away my every word and thought. It's stupid to think about these things part of me says. Because the reality is that I cannot afford to pay for any service anyways. Plus, what makes me think anyone is going to want to steal my ideas anyways?

So that is a small glimpse into my troubled mind. I let little things get to me without knowing how or why I should care about them.