Forget the wine coolers.
November 4, 2011 § 1 Comment
Remember digging holes as a child?
My greatest digging effort was long ago with my good friend, Lisa. We just saw all of the sand on Alki beach and thought it needed a hole in it, of course, and set to work. Boy, did we have dreams for that hole. It was going to be huge and fit all of our stuff and maybe even fit our parents inside and we would eat lunch in it and probably even sleep in it and maybe never leave it because it was going to be our hole home.
So we dug. With abandon. For awhile.
I remember, with sweat pouring into my eyes, pausing to glance up at Lisa and survey our
damage progress. [Okay, maybe I wasn’t working that hard to be dripping with sweat, but it felt like hard labor at the time.]
After what had seemed like endless digging, we had not made much of a dent. We certainly were no closer to China, hadn’t found any treasure, and rapidly approaching the end of our play date. Discouragement took over. We would never see our hole dreams realized. However, after much discussion and I’m sure a few juice boxes, we decided to keep going for the pure fun of it (for which I’m sure our parents were very glad- pass the wine coolers*) and see where it got us.
“Holy cow, get to the point already,” you say? Oh, I’m there. See, NaNoWriMo currently feels a lot like digging that hole. When I look at the greater goal- 50,000 words by the end of November- I want to vomit. My chest gets all tight and I sense my vision narrowing.
“I’m never going to get to China.”
Doubt and discouragement fill me and I have to fight to get back to the present.
Instead, I have to daily decide that I will keep digging. I can’t think about getting to China (i.e. the metaphorical enormity of the goal) because that is when I want to throw my shovel aside and grab a wine cooler. I have to remember to focus on today, to take my shovel and just keep digging. I have to keep enjoyment in my sights and remember the fun of it.
That is what I am choosing to do again today- dig, have fun, and not worry about tomorrow.
*No alcoholic (even mildly) beverages were actually consumed by our responsible parents at the time of this story.