Marchin On

Fate is such a subtle seamstress. Even when my life is unraveling down to its smallest fibers, right around the corner the loom is suddenly strung once more and everything is pulling itself back together again. In a matter of days, I had died. In a matter of minutes, hours, I had been brought back to life. I had lost both sleep and sanity last month–both responsibility and intention had vanished with the moderation of my mind. And now, now all of that has been brought back to me. Now all of that has left me overflowing with such joy I’m on the brink of tears in any given moment, simply overwhelmed with this magnificent and beautiful intensity.

Taking a look at my goals for March is depressing. It starts off on the left-hand side remarkably green, but as the weeks progress, one by one green dots turn to orange–failure. Lack of achievement. Missed accomplishment.

I could easily give up. I could easily say, like with many New Year Resolutions, I’ve missed my mark. I have loosed my arrows and now my quiver is empty. I have nothing left to give. I shall break my bow and bow down to the powers that be, the societies and stigmas that have kept me from the success I had dreamed of months ago.

But I refuse to do so. I refuse to succumb to the fates that weave reality. I refuse to do it. I did not make resolutions to be broken–I made goals to be kept. My long-term goals have not changed, not changed one bit; only my short-term goals, those steps I am taking to get there, have transformed into something new, into a path with greater clarity. Every moment is a moment to learn from–and when good things come into your life, time seems to make itself. I have had my hand at failure. I will not lie and say I have only found success in my life. But to hide my failures is unbecoming; by embracing them, I can learn from them and grow into something–someone–greater.

In three words: I’m marchin on.

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How To Play Golf in Three Easy Missteps

Or, four points of fact and fiction on the green.

Step One: Pick a stick. Any stick. Some sticks are thicker, and some sticks are lighter, and some sticks have a number. Those sticks just might be good in math, but probably, they aren’t. And if you don’t have a stick yet, pick a stick already.

Step Two: Hit ball with stick. It might help if you hit it hard. It might help if you swing real strong and try to swing it straight, too. But since the entire premise of this game is hitting balls with sticks, just pick a ball, any ball, and hit it with a stick. If at first you miss and kick up some grass, just swing again until you hit the ball.

Step Three: Watch ball fly through air and go into hole. If lucky, go in hole in one swing. If average, watch ball go in hole on par. If not good, ball never go in hole. This may seem pointless, but without trying to get the ball in the hole, there’s no point in hitting the ball with a stick, and the entire game falls apart.

Or so I thought this morning.

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