My son, the holidays, getting married, a month off work, the family dinners, and the Christmas tree: taking a detail in January leaves me with 21 days and all of that until starting out again. I’m not complaining. I was told to be glad to be working when there is work to do. True. But to conjure up the enthusiasm while sitting in a warm house with Christmas decorations and silence while the kid takes a nap, that’s not for everyone.
The PT is on track, even though after a summer of 800-plus hours of overtime all my body wants to do is get fat, sit in a hot tub, and shrug the world off. The commitment, the reasons behind taking this detail, the idea of bettering myself, building myself into a quality leader, a valuable asset, flexible and willing to go outside my comfort zone: got to remind myself daily of these things.
With this new crew approaching I reflect on last season, with a month away from it all. This gives me that distance to contemplate some of the happenings without the emotional immediacy of it in my face. The things that went well, the things that absolutely didn’t, my part, my successes, my failures, my shortcomings, the holly-jolly hard stuff that fills the mind like a transit bus outside my window. Their faces stand fixed to the two dimensional background they adhere to, and the voices filter through like those old school slideshows where somebody just videotapes photographs while a boombox, just out of view, plays music. This is the theoretical mind rewind/fast-forward interoperation stuff I have to do. It’s how the enthusiasm happens. It’s how I make it up when everything else in life is telling me to lose sight, lose track, and show up to the detail as-is. “Fuckin’ wing it, bro”.
If I had “wung” it or “wang” it, I wouldn’t have done the thousands of push-ups and pull-ups and sit-ups in preparation for swinging a 15-pound Stihl 460 chainsaw, or a tool with a wooden handle; if I had wung it, I wouldn’t have sat down today to relit the pile.