After a hiatus of more than one or two days, and with a looming deadline past and met, I believed that tonight the words would flow from my head and heart, and the morning would find you with an impressive post to dig into.  I won’t be surprised if you’re more disappointed than impressed.

What is it about meeting a goal that seems to leave us empty and directionless for a period of time thereafter?  I have seen this happen more times than I care to think about; the most notable being university graduates who crash and burn after completion of their studies, their emotions drained and their physical “gas tank” empty.  Every goal that their life has been planned around to this point was achieved by walking across the stage to receive that diploma, and now they wonder who they are or will become.  Students no more, they have to make the very difficult shift to what we call real life with its treacherous tangle of potential traps and snags.  This happens on a much smaller scale with many workers who have finished a long-running project, only to be faced with the prospect of another and another, and yet another.  Although we tend not to be aware of each occurrence, I think it happens to all us on an even smaller scale throughout our lives.

For the last week and a half, I’ve had numerous times when ideas for a post would spring into my head unbidden.  Having no time to contemplate the subject, I told myself every time that I would have no problem remembering them and putting them into language suitable for your perusal.  No such luck tonight.  The creative process is short-circuited by the knowledge that the aforementioned project was successfully completed and the realization that I don’t have that to work on anymore.  Strangely, the realization evokes a feeling almost of disappointment.

When I was a child, my mother would occasionally take out the cleaning tools to sweep, mop, and wax the living and dining room floor.  At some point, she would find that either the desire or the energy were not sufficient to the job.  It would be at this juncture that the enterprise would be shelved, with the words, “Well, a lick and a promise will have to do for today.”

And, that will have to do for you, my readers, today also.  It’s not a finished product, but it will suffice until one comes along.  I took a half-hearted lick at it and my promise of better efforts to follow is all you will get tonight from this once-and-future blogger. 

Patience is a virtue, you know.

Hic iacet Arthurus, rex quondam, rexque futurus — “Here lies Arthur, king once, and king to be”
(from the tomb of King Arthur as described in Le Morte D’Arthur, by Sir Thomas Malory)