I often wonder if I matter in the grand scheme of this big wide world where the wind blows free. I know I’m important to the ones that count and that’s as it should be. I run the race thinking of them. While I’d love to do something grand and huge on the fascinating Elvis plane, the truth is it’s unlikely, and that’s okay. It’s not a necessary piece of equipment to solidify my place.
My experiences are not more supreme than anyone else’s and I don’t have to embellish anything to feign importance. I like what I like because I like it. And I own who, what and where I am in relation to the Presley galaxy. Elvis Presley is often so wrongly viewed as a competitive sport. How sad for the participants who have missed the mark completely.
He and I didn’t have a romance and not just because I was too young. It’s unlikely we would have been compatible even if circumstances had thrown us together. We were at different places on this life journey and our paths only momentarily crossed because of the effort I made and being in the right place at the right time on the right day. It meant the world to me because he was the one, but to him, I was one of millions, no one special. But he made me feel I was. It was his way.
We likely wouldn’t have been best friends, hanging out and swapping stories. I doubt it would have ever been me holding on for dear life on the back of his Harley nor dutifully following behind to board the Lisa Marie heading to Vegas. There is no intricate fantasy story defining my personal connection to our Elvis. He belongs to the world.
I make an abundance of mistakes and am highly imperfect. So was he. Not only that, like me, he understood faults and flaws were assigned parts of the human make up and he did the best he could with what he had. He overcame those that he could manage. He sometimes failed. Me too. I don’t need to elevate anything. Part of his charm was the fact he had no need to elevate himself as a performer or as a man. He was true to who he was, both to his roots and his fortune, as shown through his generous giving nature.
It’s said Elvis questioned his place in this world, why he had been given the gifts he’d received and the fame he’d experienced. He was aware of his Creator and in awe of his entire life’s lot. While my gifts are not far reaching like his, they are equally important to me and to those I love – and likewise self doubt shadows me too.
It’s well documented how many around him fought behind the scenes to be of importance, jockeying for position. There was a lot of jealousy and insecurity in the ever changing pecking order. Stories are told and retold at times with zero corrective boundaries. History is being rewritten by agendas. But to what end? It detracts from all he was about.
As in most things, good does outweigh the bad. Positivity trumps the negative and right rises above wrong. The memory and life and legacy of Elvis Aaron Presley remains strong. He may have wondered if he would be remembered but the truth is he will never be forgotten. The entire man himself is much larger than the sum of all he possessed.
There are times I wonder what he would make of it all, the stories, the tales, the hierarchy, the arguments, the legacy left. Humbled, proud, surprised, overwhelmed, pleased, annoyed and maybe a little embarrassed. Mostly he’d be happy knowing he genuinely still makes a difference in the lives of so many.
That fact alone would hold the highest honor, winning the gold medal. That would be the highest stake. The outside superficial competitiveness would not even receive so much as an honorable mention. Nor should it. Authenticity and sincerity is the value of sportsmanship.
A life well lived and a race well run will always hold fast to be admired for the ages.