I want to begin with a certain level of understanding. To wit: I live in the wrong place and surrounded by people with the wrong motivations. All of this moves me further away from being successful, because it draws me closer to leisure, gluttony, and comfort. There is this theory that writers need to be hungry. It transcends that singular profession to dwell in many corners of reality. The best athletes are the ones who are in it because they came from nothing. The hardest working students are the ones who are fighting to get out of somewhere. The list of such things go on. The flip side of that is the comfort that comes with any plateau of success. Where I live and how I live is a functional plateau. Virtually everyone and everything around me is comfort. We don’t strain or stress for much of anything. I don’t need to write 5 hours a day in order to put food on the table. Food is there. Legs are kicked up. There is a TV in every room. We are too comfortable and we (the Lady and I) work to preserve that comfort for our kids who want for nothing.
This is not the way. The result has been kids who not only want for nothing but do nothing but enjoy the comforts given to them. Again this is not solely about them. This is about how that reflects back on me and my behaviors. I’ve gained back half the weight I lost while overseas and I’ve been here a week. The sedentary level is high and hard to break through. I need to rediscover the willpower to be better.
So far, I’m just treading water.