Wednesday, Aug. 23, 2006
Me and My Mule
Did you ever get the feeling something was simply not going to happen, no matter how hard you try to make it so?
I keep waffling between the sense of futility and the sense that if I give up now I might be just that final push that turns the tide in my favor.
I recently read an article called, "How to Succeed," or something of that ilk. Basically it quoted statistics in which 99.99999999999999999999 percent of discoveries are made by people who just don't give up - typically after somebody else just declared the situation impossible, often after years of investment in an enterprise by the person who took the parachute option.
I experienced the phenomenon in person when the day after we drove away from Coeur d'Alene, Idaho (my choice for the most beautiful spot in the nation) I was called for an interview for the newspaper job I so desperately wanted, one that might have permitted me and my family to live almost like real people.
By the same token, there comes a point when fate slaps you upside of the head and says, "Hey, Stupid, I'm letting somebody else get this one, so back the hell off already." When your pet project requires a $10,000 investment and you've got a sum total of 50 cents in your pocket and you've maxed out your credit options, the matter's pretty much moot, no matter how determined you are to get it done. When your investors have done what they could and now they're broke, too, it's getting pretty darned close to time to hang it up for good.
Sometimes the tough part can be knowing which is which.
And then there's the "in too deep to back out even if I wanted to" version, which I've done more than a few times, too. It's about fifty times as frustrating when you know for a fact that you're a fairly modest and finite dollar amount away from a known cash cow and you're trying to move heaven and hell to get there, but heaven and hell are alternately kicking and sticking their tongues out at you. And yet you're stuck on that path, for a few dozen reasons, and the brass ring is so close it bruises your finger as you go by - but it remains just out of reach.
It's times like these you do what you can and drop the rest into the lap of Fate and glower, "Look, you remember when you did that whole bitch-slap on me and handed my project off to the guy who invented the pet rock? You owe me, bigtime. Time to pay up."
Okay, that's not the actual approach we're taking. More accurately is the conviction that there are no accidents nor coincidence and that a genuine need will be met.
For years now, I've survived circumstances that should've killed me, or at least put me out of commission long-term. I've been homeless, living in a car or in a motel. I've always worked, even when homeless, by the way. I received food stamps for years and listened in amazement while a case worker told me that my 2-year-old son would have his "character built" by going hungry for a few days. I'm guessing her own character arrived full-grown and with a silver spoon in its mouth.
Despite some horrendous living situations, I survived, and so did my children. I won't say we never went hungry, or went without things we needed; but we did survive.
I'm not online for long at a time these days as I'm sharing a dial-up connection and don't want to be greedy. I put in several applications online this morning and will be driving into town to put in some more in person this afternoon. Life is not at panic point yet, though from the standpoint of worrying about the bills, I'm about one week away from there. I've got to cover a whole heck of a lot of bases in a very short time.
Still, I'm upbeat. We're making progress on aforementioned brass-ring project and we really ARE overdue for some positive changes, so I'm going to hold onto the thought that it's there and I'm just prospecting. It's all a matter of finding that elusive little gold mine, ya know?
Before - After
In the grander scheme of things, no soul can truly be replaced. Each one of us has a place in the universal tapestry. We each contribute our own color and texture. When one thread is snipped too soon, it distorts all the threads around it. Other lives can unravel and tear. If the wrong thread is ripped away, the whole fabric of life becomes dangerously fragile.
- LeiLani, aka Radiogurl aka Bright Opal (1957 - )