Have you ever met a goal and then felt hollow.
Have you ever attained great height
Only to discover
That the pole you were climbing was the only thing holding you up.
Deprived of our busy
All our razor honed focus
Touches empty time.
We lurch, unexpectedly dizzy.
Vertigo sets in.
It’s the day after Christmas.
It’s a scale reading your goal weight.
An empty inbox.
A renovated house.
When you’re out for a long walk,
but the sidewalk cuts off.
Goals create movement.
Movement ends goals.
Over and over, clunking forward
We struggle like fools
Driving cars with square wheels.
I am afraid of work. I am afraid of art. I am afraid of failure. I am tired of being hurt by my own inadequacies.
I suck. I have to be fine with this. The only solution is to remain in motion.
Jack of all trades master of none
This is me
But when I dedicate ten years to something
I still cannot master it
I begin to wonder why I came
And why I haven’t left yet
It’s easier to jack trades up
Than it is to master them
A master never actually masters his craft
A master only ever gets good
If you want to lead your field you must dedicate everything
And risk still being outdone by somebody
With easy natural talent
Who is fifteen years old.
Leonardo da Vinci bemoaned his lack of knowledge
On his deathbed he faulted himself
For never having learned it all.
He was a perfectionist
He is the standard for half a millennia
And will be for another millennia more
But even he
Why do we push ourselves
When there is nothing at the top?
Waiting for us is emptiness
The goal is a hollow point
So what is this drive
I want to kill it
I want to feed it.
So I fight myself fighting it
On either front.