Two in a row

Last week I had two really good pieces in a row on this blog. Sometimes I feel like I put up a post just to have something up there and to be active. But this time I was proud of both Sara Smith writes just bob and The Chair. One was humorous and the other serious and reflective but both were well written (in my mind). I was even more pleased when the comments came back so positive. People seemed not only to appreciate the theme and tone behind the posts, but also the style of writing and the crafting of the words and thoughts. It means a lot when people respond to my writing, and even more when they can see a glimpse of potential in the prose.

I don't think it's any coincidence when both were written. The first was on a Friday night, the beginning of a long three-day weekend. The latter was written on a Sunday morning over two (ok, maybe three) cups of coffee sitting on my deck. The stress of work and overshadowing negative environment it entails was behind me, if only for the upcoming 72 hours. My mind was settled, not under siege with the constant bombardment of their petty personalities. My mind was free to roam where it wanted to go, free to be carefree and funny, free to marshal its resources, in this case words, grammar and style, to create meaningful pieces of writing. It was free to be what it once was.

How powerful could my mind be if it were this free all the time? Could I be a better person? Could I be a better employee and leader? Could I be happier? Could I give more to the people around me? Could I invent the next great product? Could I write that book I frequently think about without the aborted starts and frustrating stops? Could I remember what channel MSNBC was on without having to look it up?

I see a great comparison between my mind and my golf game. This shouldn't surprise many people as I find numerous parallels between golf and life. There are times on the course when everything falls into place and I make the perfect swing. Stance, balance, grip, set-up, tempo, posture, turn, transition, release and follow through culminate in the exact shot, ball flight, and result that I envisioned. It is a thing of beauty. It's a flash of potential that if harnessed would transform an average player to an exceptional player. But the consistency isn't there and I can't make it happen each and every time. It is frustrating to know, really know deep down and believe that I could be that good but can't do it a majority of the time.

The same goes with my mind. I know deep down that I can do a multitude of things (including blogging) much better than I am right now. It's frustrating that my mind isn't able to function anywhere near its potential. Those blogs gave me a glimpse into the way things used to be, the way they could be all the time. They optimistically reminded me of a level of quality I'm capable of achieving, but conversely grounded me with the realization that it may not be possible without a change in scenery. I'm torn between being relieved to know I haven't lost my skills completely and sad to be reminded it has been so long since I've been free enough to exercise them to their fullest. It is in those divergent emotions that you find a frustrated soul, struggling to share his creativity, fondly recalling past successes, blocked by the interference of a distracting environment.