Rockstar

There’s a kid that lives in the apartments behind us, who has quite some rockstar ambition.  He is about 17 years old, wears skinny jeans, plays the guitar and walks his pug dog. He is an absolute delight to watch.  He stands in a garden area, with or without the dog, with or without his guitar, and he sings away.  Complete with dance moves and pretend microphone in hand.   He happens to have some form of intellectual handicap, which one I’m not sure.  But that is beside my point.

The kid delights in what he is doing.  He doesn’t care about who may or may not be watching him or hearing him.  He obviously loves to sing and play the guitar, so sing and play the guitar he does.  Rain, hail and sunshine.  He is out there.

A couple of weeks ago he had to run for his life because he nearly missed his schoolbus, he was so engrossed in his rockstar performance that the time got away on him.

I have no idea if he has any real talent – I can’t hear him from where I stand in my kitchen, doing the dishes and watching him.  But I love how he has no inhibitions.

I point him out to my kids, not to poke fun at him, but as an example of how wonderful it is to just do what you love to do, and not care what people think.

Wouldn’t it be great if we all just did what we loved, and didn’t care what people thought?

And wouldn’t it be great if we all did things for an audience of one?  The One who really matters?

(This is my rockstar, not the one mentioned above – this one never plays for anyone!  Not yet anyway!)

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