It is in your morning run, on this day in the rain. Where your idea comes from the woods on the trail because your mind was silent and you were listening.
It is in the way you show up, every day, writing down your goals for the week and ticking them all off your list, one by one. Undeterred by the fact that your readership numbers are up or down or nowhere.
It is in these very days that blur by with equal parts fear and joy; doubt and confidence. You remain relentless, driven and focused.
Do the work you came here to do.
It is in you.
(And how awesome is that?)
I choose perseverance. Every time. It’s in me.
It started out fine. The relationship, that is. We had just moved in and they were our neighbors across the street. I’ll call them Mr. and Mrs. X.
As soon as our moving van pulled up, Mrs. X came over to introduce herself. She was chatty with a wide smile and the type of conversational cadence that doesn’t leave room for commentary nor waits for replies. Within the first 15 minutes of talking she asked me what church I went to and what school my daughter attended. In the South, these two questions are often asked of perfect strangers and I’ve never gotten used to it. I mumbled something about being a recovering Catholic, to which she replied: That’s just because you need the right church!
It took me some time to realize that I was on the wrong path. That the work I was doing for a living was no longer fulfilling me; actually was no longer working on any level. It seemed that satisfaction was no longer a given, despite a job well done. If I wanted to take pleasure in my work, genuine, heartwarming pleasure - I had to demand it. And then I had to create it.