I have a project I'm resisting. For weeks, it's sat sullen on my To Do list. I'll get to it, I'll get to it, I say, and then it's dinnertime, and I haven't gotten to it.
And do you want to know what I've realized? I'm afraid of this project. I don't know how to do it, don't know if I can do it. It seems impossible, and the longer I resist, the more impossible it seems.
Well, that's just the kiss of death, isn't it?
So, the other day, I opened up this project. I searched it for the tiniest place I could make a dent. Then I made that tiny dent. I found another tiny place, made another dent. Tiny place, dent. Tiny place, dent. Until I noticed something was taking shape here. Not the whole project, but a piece of it. And that got some of my blood pumping.
And now, where there had been resistance, there was momentum.
After a nice chunk of time, I put the project aside. I put it aside when my blood was still pumping, when I could have done more. I wanted that bounce, that liveness when I returned to it tomorrow. A bit like Hemingway's take: "Stop when there [is] still something there in the deep part of the well."
The project's not done. But it's moving now, it's alive. Where I'd had fear, now I have excitement. And I don't know what the kiss of life is, but I'm thinking that's some part of it.
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