You know those times, right? You’re doing something… OK… more like embroiled – deep into it – “it’s 4 in the morning and I don’t care” kinda something. You are breary eyed. Your bladder is busting and you are cursing yourself for not buying that economy pack of adult diapers you saw earlier in the day because now your bladder is about to rupture from the caffeine laden drinks you have been slamming to keep you going on this… something… and you are overcome by a deep fear that even a trip to the john to relieve yourself will “”break the spell” of that something.
Your brain is crackling away and finally you stop. You look at it. A glow emanates from within accompanied by what you are convinced is a heavenly chorus as you review what has been done.
The booming James Earl Jones voice in your head proclaims to the universe at large…
“IT IS A BLOODY WORK OF ART!!!”
You finally capitulate to the WWII sirens blaring and hooting in your head. The flashing red signs one would find at a nuclear reactor connected to your bladder screams “SYSTEM OVERLOAD”. You barely make it. As Niagara gushes from your loins the rapture of self satisfaction envelops your entire being… equal parts physical relief and divine glow.
You return to the location of creation. You examine it again. As you do… another quiet,calm, soothing yet no-nonsense voice… one that sounds akin to the cadence of Emma Thompson simply and matter of factly declares…
“It’s good… brilliant by most standards… but not good enough… not for you.”
You take a deep breath. For a fleeting moment you consider letting it be. But you calmly burrow back into that something… because you know… and always will… that it can be better. That allowing enough to be enough would begin the slide of deceit.
My count this week is still possessing the capacity to never allowing good or enough to be enough… and still finding the joy in pushing forward.