Discouragement

None of us is eager to embrace the title, to admit to being discouraged. And yet it happens in most of our lives, or at least many of our lives. Sometimes, we get discouraged. We might lose hope or feel like we aren’t getting anywhere or feel like we are aimless or restless or lacking the sort of clear guidance that we might prefer.

Perhaps you’ve placed a call to an old friend or a trusted colleague and left a message and it’s been days without a return call. Perhaps you’ve reached out to someone who assured you that they would always be there for you, but this time that’s just not quite the case. What do you do?

You soldier on. You find your own strength. You hold your head as high as you possibly can and even when you feel like you don’t have a damned clue as to what your next best move is you keep on going. You resolve to do what it is you want to do, you resolve to be better at communicating with your friends, you resolve to go after each and every opportunity you can find, you resolve to NOT be dragged into the morass of self-doubt and self-pity. You resolve to tell yourself, “It’s time to stop wondering what life is going to bring me and time to start determining what life is going to being me.”

I’m writing – of course – to myself. It’s time for me to stop wondering what life is going to bring me and it’s time for me to start determining what life is going to bring me. I’m applying for jobs, yes; I’m working (too sporadically) on my manuscript, yes; but I need to embrace that no one can determine more what life will bring me than I can. It ain’t easy. And it often isn’t much fun. But there we are. There it is.

It’s time for me to get back to work; to my work. To writing. Of course I have to pay the bills, and I will – whether that be through writing and directing corporate training work or teaching as an adjunct wherever I can get the work, I’ll do it. But I also need to do the real work, the writing work that I’ve trained for and worked for and that I… ultimately, love.

My late birth father had a phrase that he used a lot. He would say, “Well, good enough.” His saying “good enough” meant so much more than what those two words instantly imply. It meant, “All is well.” It meant, “Now we can proceed.” It meant, “Full speed ahead.” It is high time for me to heed my late father’s words, “Good enough.”

Damn whatever torpedoes might be waiting in the wings. Full speed ahead.

Namaste.