The dry heat shall be my undoing.
I cannot stand it. Well, I can stand it for a time, but that window is shrinking. I cannot be outside for more than a dozen minutes without beginning to melt in the 112 degree heat. Turns out I’m in the majority there. Most people I’m sharing space with in this Chic-fil-A half filled with kids are returning from or headed to a pool somewhere. It is perhaps a function of where I am that pools are so plentiful and so accessible by the people who are raising other people’s kids. It is also true that the majority of the people in this space are nannies or babysitters. There are a handful of birth moms slouched against the heat, their ears ringing with bad elevator music and the joyful shouts of kids at play. And here I sit with a laptop and no kids feeling more like an outcast here than anywhere else.
I spit out words and worlds slowly, hopeful that some find an orbit suitable for habitation; that I can forge story and universe as my own sun lashes out at me with fire and light.
In other words, it is too damn hot to think and I have a great deal of writing to do before I can feel any real sense of accomplishment. I’m trying to work on seeing the process as an accomplishment on its own. I know this is the better way to think and behave in regards to my craft. It isn’t easy to spend hours on a project, come away with a few dozen usable words and feel like that’s okay. That feels too much like wasted time and energy that could’ve been devoted to an endeavor with more tangible (if temporary) results.
Part of that mindset is reflective of the coming coaching season. I am not part of any coaching staff for the first time in a long time. While that has been hard to let go of, it is a good sign that I at least recognize the temporary pleasure of coaching. You work your butt off to see these kids be successful and yourself be successful and you leave with nothing to show for it. Even if you get a championship, it doesn’t go to you but to the head coach (or that guy’s kid). Your evidence of success is what your kid walks away with. However, if you don’t coach your evidence of success is still what your kid walks away with. At least I figured that much out.
Now I gotta write.