So yesterday we got WAY more people than we counted on for our little improv party for #1 son. Not that this was a bad thing. I’m glad though that we decided to have TWO cakes, and 20 lbs of chicken legs, or we’d have been left in the lurch.
The party completely overrode our tiny little room and spilled out all the way down the hallway.
The last person left after one am — partly my fault as we engaged in conversation — and the boy is most thoroughly 25 now, which still makes me a little confused. He still has five to seven years to finishing his degree fully and be a fully productive member of society. Which is hard on the hyper-responsible young man who wants to pay his own way, but that’s the path he chose. (And he’s borrowing most of it, but we’re paying his living expenses, of course.)
Woke up way too late this morning, which means we just had brunch and we have a panel at four.
This is not how I intended things to go today. I have a Portuguese sf anthology I promised to read, look over the bilingual editing, and write an introduction for, which will probably mean I’ll be burning the midnight oil today as well. I intended to get that done by noon today. It won’t happen.
But it will hopefully get done by midnight — I got to talk briefly with Larry at the party yesterday and he approved my plans for Grant (mwahahahahahaha) — and I might get to meet with/talk to Larry int he meantime. IF not that will be tomorrow.
One day at a time. I won’t say I don’t often get furious at things going slow. The little time I’ve had to devote to writing in the last two years of packing and moving moving moving moving, has cut down on my production to ridiculous levels, on top of the slow down of illness the two years before that.
I get annoyed and impatient, but there isn’t a hell of a lot more to do than take it a day at a time. You know the thing about the journey of a thousand steps? And the only way to accomplish it is to take that single step and then go on putting a foot in front of the other. Just a foot in front of the other. Sure, sometimes you’ll jump back to avoid a tiger, or take a detour around an obstacle. But you try to generally keep moving. One step at a time. Towards your goal.
We all understand this in our private lives, even if sometimes the setbacks and detours make us despair.
Why is it so difficult to do in politics? Why do people start from “I want it all and I want it now” like they all become Freddy Mercury?
Oh, I know, it’s because the history we learned telescopes all those steps into “and then the glorious conqueror walked a thousand steps and won. The end.” And because movies and books have conditioned us to this, too.
But Narrativium isn’t life, except in very small and marginal effects. Life is a lot of boring, small things that push, push, push, getting us to the goal in steps so small that you sometimes don’t see yourself taking them.
And that’s what happens in politics, writ large. You push push push and sometimes you don’t see the results for generations.
Our current clusterfilk is the result of pushing that started more than 100 years ago.
To want it all now, no setbacks, not halting, no walk arounds is to have no concept of the rate at which societies move.
It’s to want to toss the baby AND the bathwater out, in return for — This is not clear as none of that will achieve the goal.
Though I suppose as a Latin woman I do understand how satisfying grand tantrums and dramatic exits are, in the end you just have to restart the journey again.
One step at a time.
It’s not grand or dramatic or interesting. It is however what we have.
One step at a time. One day at a time. You do the best you can and you discard regrets. And you move forward, though sometimes you can’t even see it, towards the goal that’s always far away.
One step at a time. Here’s my hand. I’ll help you on, if you help me on.
Towards those lofty goals.
Our lives, our fortunes, our sacred honor. We’ll bet them all, and we might lose them all. But we’ll move forward.
One step at a time.