The Week of 26 - Punctual Trampolines in the Sky

I showed up on time. I was turning 26. At 26 you may not have your entire life figured out, but you must have the qualities that speak to a better future than your present. The bank of mum and dad grates, and moving back home to live with your parents feels like a curse.

I was happy about being on time. There is a confidence that only punctuality can bring. A few minutes on the right side of time make for a readiness that words cannot describe. My newfound awareness of time proved to be unnecessary on the day because Sleame was late.

Sleame is a new addition to my realm of friends. He is somewhere between acquaintance and friend. The promotion from acquaintance to friend isn't something that is easily achieved. I regard my friends as treasures gifted by life. There is a friend for every occasion and then there are the friends for the end. It is my brothers and sisters for the end that I regard most highly. It is they that hold you when everything else fails.

We were meant to be jumping on trampolines at the Oxygen in Acton. He showed up two hours late with excuses and apologies scattered in a way that only the tardy can be. I didn't mind too much. I'm not one to sit around idle and count the minutes. There was a novel I'd been putting off. If he had been on time, I may never have started it.

The trampolines were a regression to childhood. It turned out that jumping from trampoline to trampoline, bouncing off the walls, spinning from right to left and left to right, touching heels and toes, all in mid air were all I could ever ask for. There was a purity to my joy. Chicken soup for my soul.

A video posted by D.A.O (@troambyafam) on
Mid front flip, I discovered that some of the keys to the future lie in moments lived before. Some times to be 26, you must first remember what it felt like to be seven.

Happy Days,

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