Waiting For The Click- The Post You Won’t Read
Truth is I don’t know what pushed me here other than this overwhelming sense of waiting for the click. Not sure what to say or how to describe it other than I have this feeling that something is about to happen that is going to have significant impact upon me.
Maybe it is intuition or maybe it is just hunger pains, after all it is lunch time. I am opting to go for the woo woo end of things and to accept that something is about to happen. Whatever this click is, it is something that is good and that is coming from work I have done to reach this place.
If you were to step inside my head you might wonder if I was manic or just supercharged.
My Whole Body Aches
I played ball last night for 90 minutes and had one of the best nights I have had in months. It was the first time in months that my legs gave me the lift I have been looking for and my lungs were happy to cooperate too.
It was a joyous occasion for me because lately I have been wondering if the mileage had caught up with me. You can’t play as hard as I do without paying a price.
The physical pounding that comes with the game takes a toll. Don’t misunderstand, I am not complaining because I love this game.
I love the battle for the ball. So much of it is a question of will, not talent, but will.
Talent Without Will is Useless
Talent without will is useless. I hate seeing players with boat loads of talent waste it because they aren’t willing to work. I don’t have that talent. I am not tall enough to just turn and shoot over the other guys or take the ball from them.
My game is about grit. It is about desire. It is about muscle. It is about being willing to pound the ball into the post and to be fouled a dozen times when I put it back up.
I hear the clock ticking. I am not old, but you don’t see men my age playing this way for long because the body says “screw you.”
Waiting For The Click
Every time I look at my fiction I find myself writing the same two or three stories. It used to irk me because I can write about other things. I have done it and know I can do it again.
Except I haven’t.
I think it is because I have to cover these stories now. There is something there. There is something I have to do. I am waiting for the click.
Or maybe I am waiting to recognize the click.
I hate waiting. I like action. I am responsible and accountable for my life and my happiness.
Waiting feels like I am shirking that responsibility, but maybe I am not. Maybe it is just giving the lessons, moments and meanings a chance to catch up with a mind that moves a mile a minute.
People Don’t Comment When It Is About You
A reader sent me an email saying that people won’t comment when the posts are about me and not about you. There is some truth to that.
If my content isn’t something you can relate to you will be less likely to read and less likely to comment. It is worth asking What Is The Value Of Comment Sense?
It is also worth remembering that Writing Should Scare You.
Look Beneath The Surface
Last night I told my family I have grown completely intolerant of the inability and unwillingness of some people to let others talk. We don’t always know what someone is going to say so there isn’t a reason to just finish a sentence or to not pay attention because you know it all.
That click I am waiting for is tied into all of these things. I am living my own Nashville and tied up in my own Walk The Line.
All we have is now. Today is our guarantee because tomorrow might not come or it could be very different.
That is why waiting for the click is killing me, yet I feel confident that it is all going to work out.
Life sure is peachy sometimes.
What do you think?