As easily, reaching mid-week believing every idea that could have ever have been thought is already developed – every plan, every scheme ever dreamt. Tried. Done.
Nothing original or unexplored left …
Or, if there is something left to be figured out – solutions will surely sprout from some pimple-faced nerd who could never understand me, or take time to try.
Then, something happens.
Every week. Never, a schedule – can’t predict what or when. Shows up, opportunity for embracing – or letting pass. There can be no denying its value.
Pimple-faced nerd’s idea might be better, more likely attract capital and a market, but that matters not.
It’s mental gymnastics, making something better, doing something better, figuring out some new way to get mountain-top meltwater to flow to the ocean. A new way of using a path that exists already.
Amazed. Glistening sweat, heart beating faster – without visiting the gym – through messes, my own maze. Smiles, some laughs, some tears, wouldn’t have occurred FOR me if they hadn’t happened TO me. Planning, work, end of week – some confusion, some resolution, and fatigue. Exhaustion satisfaction, neither ‘I just ran a marathon’ fatigue or ‘exhaustion from passionate love making’.
Resolution, revolution, shaking up – smoothing out. That’s why Friday mornings happen. Without this half-day we would race into the weekend not fully appreciating 1/52nd of our year we’d just invested ourselves in ... gave away some time, some rhyme – that is raison d'être.
Every start, middle and end of every week we are original – figuring, figuring out.
Refreshed, renewed, believed and understood.
That understood part sometimes takes a little longer.
written / published from Calgary, AB
morning walk: 1C/34F, calm clear crisp – grass is wet from rain and dew to Gusta’s delight, she returned with a wet belly and a smile in search of her breakfast … be both had a good little sprint
Dear Mr Mark Musing, My colleague sent your email to me as she believed it would pique my interest. Over a round of burnt toast at the family home last week I had a conversation with my great uncle Ken. After asking where the Marmalade had gone and why had I burnt the toast he swiftly moved on to a favourite topic of his. This is his wariness of people who are over enthusiastic or too excitable in their speech. He believes its hastens their end (their hearts can’t take the excitement…) and so he often tells us that sobriety, sense and level headedness are the keys to a long and happy life. I have to say that I wonder what he would make of your words. May I wish you a life that is not exciting or interesting at all. Stick to your deadlines and your commitments – you will be safer that way. Fruitful endeavors, LK, UK
Great read. Without focus nothing gets done. Focus is a drug. When you’re on it external pollution disappears. Hope to see you at my Venice event on June 23rd, PVG, Calgary, AB … p.s. thank you for your voice mail soon after my return from Amusement Park Madness. As always, quickly changed from vacation to work mode with resulting collateral damage/neglect (sorry for not returning the call)
Awesome 100. For me, I think the focus comes from interest.:), GB, Waukesha, WI
If you liked any Musing column, it would mean a lot to me if you would respond. Comments are welcome, so please contribute to the discussion. To reply, use: firstname.lastname@example.org . You can also connect with me on LinkedIn . You can sign up your friends here at MarkMusing.com . This site is updated daily, each column is retained in the archive when the next day's column is loaded ...