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Once again there it sits, a snow white canvas, deathly still and ghostly quiet, staring me down like some blood-thirsty adversary.
Poised and ready my fingers hover over the keyboard, searching for a sign, waiting for a signal: the resounding ring of an opening bell, the explosive discharge of a starting gun, a timely snippet of mind blowing inspiration.
Anything that says, “Write man. Write.”
The striking of the first few keys brings with it a ripple of relief, yet in all I continue to struggle.
My thoughts are aloof, scrappy, and incoherent, and just when I think I’m zeroing in on something solid they up and scatter like a pack of wild antelope at the sight of a charging cheetah.
Why? I can’t help wonder.
Why do I keep doing this to myself?
For the umpteenth time I draw a gaping breath.
I reiterate the string of customary mantras: don’t give in, stay with it, you can do this.
Do they help? Eh, but their legitimacy can’t be denied.
So I heed their encouragement and press on, because today, as with all days, something is bound to slither to the surface. Sooner or later the words will come, and when they do I mean to do everything in my mortal power to make them dazzle and delight.
To the best of my ability I will share with you what I feel deepest and strongest about.
I will ponder, praise, and celebrate.
I will advocate and I will urge. Perhaps even suggest.
From time to time I may question, but I will never judge.
Nor shall I attempt to teach. For I have too much still to learn.
And learn I will—learn I must, for it is the only way to become better…better than before.
But better for what?
Of that I’m not quite sure, so for the time being I shall abstain from any desirous foretelling and focus solely on what needs to be done here in the present.
I will invest thoroughly in the work at hand, work that, although challenging (even maddening) at times, I not only am prepared and willing to do, but feel privileged to do.
For quite frankly, it has been this work over the past few years, this small and simple act of daily discipline, that has given me as much satisfaction as anything I’ve ever done.
And as a result I am better…better off than before.
And for now that is all I ask.
For anymore would be pointless.
However, in the event the muse elects to grace my industrious efforts, I will happily rise to the occasion and embrace my moment in the sun.
For I realize these moments are indeed rare. Their radiance short lived.
In an instant, the instant will be gone. The so called ‘flash of brilliance’ reduced to a mere flicker.
One so faint in fact that at times it is difficult to make out.
But no matter, for it is this lowly splinter of light that is most crucial.
For it is this light that is my guiding light―my one true glimmer of hope.
Hope that perhaps someday…it will be my time to shine.
“Wake Up Babe I Know It’s Rainin’, Still We Gotta Rise and Shine” – Kevin Welch
Whether hunched over a computer or standing at a crossroad, I know I’m not alone when I say I’ve spent many a moments searching for a signal, waiting for a sign, pining for that beacon of light to come streaming down and point the way.
Likewise, I’m certain I’m not the only one who’s found it in the outstretched arms of meaningful work.
You need only look into the eyes of a game ready gladiator, witness the uncompromising conviction of a dutiful artisan or aspiring entrepreneur, or delight in the soulful sounds of a skilled musician.
Each is a shining example of the work at work.
All are glowing testimony that engaging in this type of work does more than just satisfy a trivial desire―it fills a deep down personal need.
“Blessed is he who has found his work,” said José Ortega y Gasset, “let him ask for no other blessing.”
And by no means must you ever believe that you have to be the best at what you do to enjoy the benefits of doing it.
This is nothing more than a conniving fallacy that when subscribed to has the potential to rob you of every last intention you’ve ever held dear.
Give it your finest, but remember, at this stage it isn’t about mastery; it’s about learning and growing.
It’s about lighting a spark.
It’s about blazing a trail, one that’ll ignite an undying fire in you so vibrant it’ll have you gleaming like a chrome plated Pontiac.
So the next time you’re gazing up at the somber skyline awaiting a fortuitous break in the cloud cover, why not instead fix your eyes on the familiar and the fascinating.
In other words, key in on something that peaks your interest and stirs your curiosity, something that really means something to you.
Take a shine to it, then come back to it every chance you get.
Work at it. Continue working at it.
Do so and I assure you it won’t be long before you start to, ‘see the light.’
Where will it lead you? That’s hard to say. To a brighter future most likely.
And what might this future hold?.
Well now that should be blindingly obvious―promise, day after glorious day of untold promise.
See ya March 1st, till then, keeep it up.