I continue, indefatigable

I knew when I woke up, this paper would be my project for the day. I've thought it over well, now I'll write it, and afterwards I won't worry about it because I know two things. First, I'll have done it as I'd like it done. I'll have done my best.

Second, anything I have done, am doing, or will do -- can be done better. Things I do now aren't as good as I'll do them in the future. As I learn more I get better.

If I thought about not doing as well now as I can next week or next month, I'd put off my work until then. So, I just do my best and don't let this get into my thinking while I work.

Other people are more qualified to do certain things than I am. I can only be the best at one thing. I'm not prepared to think about the amount of time it would take for me to become "best" at two things. For very exceptional people to achieve two goals it sometimes takes a life time; for me -- probably forever. But doing better tomorrow is strictly up to me; something to look at all by myself. Improvement.

"If at first you don't succeed, try again" is a fine statement, a noble one I wouldn't argue with. But to me and many others I know, it is incomplete. Sometimes I try and fail at something and then see it was the wrong thing. Often times it is something I'm not up to. There are many things I will simply never be able to do. . . . As a very small boy, I wanted to have a baby. . . . I used to feel let down when I found I couldn't.

Disappointment is a bad way to feel about low spots or shortcomings. It saps the strength needed for improvement, goes against the motivation, drains your confidence to get back up and try again. There's no room for disappointment in one who wants to achieve. It's a destructive force which serves no end in progress.

If I am to try again -- whether or not I am capable of attaining my goal -- let me be trying for an understanding of me.m Not that which I'd like to be able to do -- but what I can reallym do.

As a mechanic of ten years, I've worked on everything from the smallness of wristwatches to the largeness of pinsetters which set bowling pins in your local alley. From the "self ruined" machinery that's been brought me to fix over the years, I've learned that people either are or are not mechanics. If you aren't born with the innate abilities needed to progress in a particular area, you'll never be great in that area.

I lack musical ability, I've tried to play several instruments at one time or another, but I just can't tell if the note I'm playing is the same one I'm reading on my score. I'm tone deaf. Should I try again? Be disappointed? I don't think so. I think I should play the music you're reading now. I didn't succeed at the organ Keys, but tried and tried again at the keys of a typewriter. I'm glad.

What I'm getting at here is: everyone can't do everything -- or so it seems. Now I'm taking time, previously used for disappointments, to set boundaries for myself. If I set them too close, I just move them out a little and try some more.

Who knows, maybe someday I'll play a few simple tunes on an organ, or have children. For sure, many things will be different than they are now. But no matter what, I'm not going to sulk or give up because my light won't show me things I cannot see. I won't be disappointed by the dark places in my life.

Because no matter how fully mine shines, there will always be a brighter lights.