So the last few days have just been really difficult, as I come to the terms of the financial commitments I have made, and the difficulties with my work situation. As a contractor, you can only charge for hours worked, and if you have little work, or if the employer doesn't give proper specifications or details on what they need you to actually do, you just sit there, waiting. And this is what I have spent most of the past few days doing. You may think this might be nice holiday, but in the situation I'm in, it is just a matter of waiting it out, until said employer gets a chance to contact you, carefully watching the clock and your savings click backwards at every stroke. I've even been pacing and having the odd midday beer to calm myself down... I was doing so well on kicking my nail biting habit, with the past few days undoing a week of wrist thwacking and Pavlovian Conditioning lectures to my friends who ask why I have a red mark around my wrist.
Finances aside though, throughout this entire thing I'm really seeing that the actual act of leaving the marina and beginning the journey, is just a small part of a whole chaotic web of interconnections which make up this crazy scheme. It's the silence of preparation others never witness that should be awarded. This is of course no great revelation, we see it with countless sports people who spend 10 years training to run 100metres and have accolades poored upon them for their 'stunning success'. Even though the real success and mental acrobatics has been consistant and in plain sight for years, we just failed to notice it.
In a perfect world, we would cheer, scream, yell and throw praise every single day for ten years, and humbly shake their hand at the end of their 100metres, not in awe of their speed, but in awe of their consistancy in the adversity of fighting the demons of commitment.