What hill are you willing to die on? What is the one goal you hold in such high regard that you will do whatever it takes, for however long it may take, to achieve? My truth is, even after fully envisioning the achievement resulting from surviving that hill, any vulnerable moment contains elements trying to drag me down. Why can’t we ignore these distractions and continue our climb? Why do we fight in meaningless battles?
It took me years to come to terms with my addiction to perfection. I would only want to consume good media and consuming bad media would make me feel terrible. I’ve now come to accept what is merely good enough by sifting through the inefficient moments of imperfection in media, and especially life, to find those useful nuggets of information. Drop it if it has no immediate redeeming value. Accept its faults and press on!
How much can we prepare for negative situations? I think most of us live in trepidatious fear of minor inconveniences, hypotheticals, and having our mettle tested. Safety, comfort, and leisure are all addictive frames of reference. Fitness tests my boundaries and improves my life’s endurances. Annihilating my left hamstring on an improper landing this week, what would have been weeks of limping before returning to fitness was just a minor inconvenience and encouragement to proceed!
Thrift stores are wrought with morality and mortality. Every item was once someone’s misguided best intentions, loss of interest, or change in life situation. It’s no one’s fault. Handling donations one winter years back, I once accepted a woman’s donations and the story of her daughter outgrowing them, only to see some of those innocent objects destroyed in the trash compactor hours later. At least I gave her a sense of restoring her intended honor.
My bull-headed dash through 501 essays has taught me to eschew listless energy. I’m focused on what directly or indirectly helps my mission of becoming a professional writer. When times are bad, escape into nuances that might push along the mission. When times are good, go full-bore! The more practice, the less insecurity I’ve felt over trivialities, enabling “this” to become a natural part of my life. Writing is as subconscious for me as eating breakfast.
Wrote something well? Drew something dandy? Recorded something rad? Programmed something perfect? Time to celebrate and call it a day with just that one? When will you work on the next one? Tomorrow, next week… never? Exercise is about continually stressing certain muscles to train them to improve. You can’t lift a weight once or row one stroke and expect results. Similarly, this is the 500th publication on Better Zombie. Only 500 reps? Time for 500 more!
My big goal is writing “The Story.” The flash-bang idea started in high school and just will not go away. I could do as many might: try, fail, and shelve the idea as a quaint notion. I can’t do that! I am only stopped by my writing ability, which I know cannot yet do justice to “The Story.” Here are 5 points I refined in my process while writing “Covered in Artificialities” that might help you!
“Do you have 50 cents you could spare this afternoon?” “Yeah, sure… You hanging in there alright?” I gave him all my change, 8 cents, and one dollar more. “Thank you. Yeah, I am.” The man wearing a dirty hoodie in the dry heat walked off, looking disbelieved over money. Life in “The Story” isn’t easier than our own. John (left) had periods of teenage homelessness before being “adopted” into Trishna’s (right) life. Can we adopt everyone?
How often do you consider self-correction as part of in your daily life? How often is positive yet critical self-analysis part of your weekly tasks? Once I’ve figured out how to do something, and feel comfortable doing it, I’ll try different approaches. Though I’ve experimented with different rowing forms in the past, this week is focused on one topic: sleep. Can I stick to a regular sleep schedule to decrease fatigue and increase rowing performance?
[Story 3 of 3 – Beginning]
“First, let’s stop by Linda’s.”
They wheeled the freshly-rebuilt computer over to their manager’s open door.
“Hey Linda, got a minute?”
“Sure thing, Rockstar. What’s on your mind?”
Hank leaned up against the door frame and Sammohini stepped into sight.
“This’s that computer we got your approval on. She’s gonna be ornery.”
“Sounds like it. I trust you both. Call me if you need reinforcements.”
Henry stood at attention, saluted, and they departed into battle.