It’s that time of year when many of us look back on what was accomplished over the course of 2013’s fast and fleeting months and while December is still youngish the media will soon blitz us with headlines like ‘2013 was The Year of …(twerking anyone?)’ and we will be faced with the question:
What milestones or accomplishments did you achieve this year?
So while I know a lot can happen in 21 days, you could still swim across the English Channel say (if you’re so inclined or feeling suicidal) or climb a mountain (of you insist) I’m guessing you’re ‘done’ for the year and are looking forward to some peace and quiet and time with the family.
Sadly I didn’t get to run with the bulls this year. But more importantly I didn’t achieve any of my writing goals. Not one. I didn’t finish The Masterpiece which means I don’t get to write THE END in a flourish of black ink at the bottom of the last page on the last day of 2013. I didn’t get one short story published or even accepted for publication. And, the three or four poems I submitted were torn apart, line by glorious line (I’m not kidding) by editors who ‘didn’t get it’. I’m an artist! You’re not always going to ‘get it’ I wanted to bleat from the mountain top but it seems I’ll have to wait a little longer for that privilege.
Here’s what I’m going to do: I am going to keep on doing what I love to do because I’m Tenacious (with a capital ‘T’) you see. But also because sometimes it’s about timing. Maybe it’s not my time yet. Maybe there’s something better ahead or maybe I still need to practice more. Maybe like Malcolm Gladwell says I need 10 000 hours (or 100 000 hours) and that’s ok.