Once upon a time, the pen was my albatross. Come hell or high water, I would don my writing cap to craft a day's worth of dispatch to a global readership interested in the mundane business of management studies. I had no time, I was far removed from anything related to the "real world" (although my studies were "real world, real learning"), and I was chronically fatigued. Still, that old foe time made room for my elusive friend inspiration and voila' - a daily diary entry was born. Just one year, and I can look back to see my work sitting idle on the back pages of a graduate school website as a reminder of what I used to do.
This evening, I sit in quietude, soaking in a new life and re-setting my habits and thought patterns for another life. I have crossed the chasm of my youth, headstrong into adulthood and carrying a whole new set of expectations for myself. I am refocusing, and (relatively) I have all the time in the world. However, I don't seem to find the time in writing my daily dispatches - and why is that?
Alas, I have seeped back into a good, old American lifestyle - one that permits busy-ness and comfort beyond the gritty joys of daily life. I write this perched luxuriously on a sofa that sucks me into its cushions, sitting listlessly between tasks on my to-do list. I have temptation to get up for a dollop of ice cream with all kinds of sinful additives. Reflecting on my life in these days, I stopped for this once to wake up to my reality - and I realize one simple thing. The real difference between last year and this year is little more than a difference in motivation and inspiration.