On writing/distance running/raising kids with special needs/life in general: Its like this process. One that can’t be rushed as much as you want to rush it. We all want immediate gratification but that’s all it is. Immediate. Its fast and its there, it fills you up right in that empty space and its amazing, and then its gone. And somehow you feel emptier than you did before it arrived and took up residence for that short time. With raising Wil and distance running and writing, it’s always this process to build on. As much as you think you want it, as much as you want to make it happen now-now-now, it just doesn’t work that way. It’s this thick molasses ever so slowly swirling down a funnel to this end goal you know you want and you really, really want to get there, but you have to move with the molasses. You want so bad to push this big, black f***ing blob through the funnel but it pays no attention. It is not defiant, it is not gleeful, in fact it has no emotion at all. It simply goes at its own painstakingly slow pace no matter how much you yell at it, kick at it, beg and plead or try to sweet-talk it. You finally realize you are just going to have to go through the process to get there. Some can’t see beyond the big, black f***ing blob. They say it’s no use, step out, and go on to more immediate gratification or worse, float through life with no destination at all. But you stay. You want to get through that freaking funnel. You look around because you have to. What else are you going to do as you slowly move your way forward? So you look around and you discover new things. New things that start to stick. Like the molasses isn’t black at all. It’s a variety of shades in the way the light reflects off of it. It’s actually quite beautiful in its flow. You notice there is a certain rhythm to it. You fall into that rhythm. Your goal is still the same, you still want to get through the funnel, but you have found that you have relaxed into the process. Now you are immersed in the process. It becomes part of you. You don’t want to rush it anymore. You want that end goal as much as you did before, but you want to be fully part of the process of getting there. That’s where the magic is. That is what fills the empty place inside and stays. It stays because you built it and were part of it, and now it is part of you. When ironically, the whole thing started you wanted no part of it. I think we all need to slow.the.f***.down. We are all going so darn fast we are missing the point. By slowing down I don’t mean being lazy. Quite the contrary. Keep those goals, but slow it down. Look around on your way there. I find when I let go, when I expand my view to what is around me rather than what is in front of me, I find my rhythm. I actually become faster this way. I won’t say its easy, but there is a beat to life, or maybe it’s the zone everyone talks about. We fear letting go because I think we believe that means giving up. When actually, the moment we let go, we open ourselves to receiving more.