“What if you just yack your way through the rest of your life?” I asked one of my good friends today.
“That would work,” she said. “That’s what I do best.”
I agree. She’s a yacker, and I love listening to her yackety yak. She goes on — and off, delightfully. I can only hope and pray she ardently devotes herself to it.
She told me today, “There are no bad words; there is only bad timing.” I’m good with that. I am always looking for the wrong word at the right time. It makes people laugh.
I took my time at the credit union today to talk to three different staff members, yacking it up about family, the holidays, church. It was a bit of verbal delectation — I tossed in a few bon mots — for me and for them. Like my friend, it’s what I do. More of that, in print, that’s what’s next for me.
What’s next? For any of us?
What’s next is what has been that wants to be more so — but that which will take intention, choice and courage — and will come at a cost — really.
There must be a shedding of what has been that wants to be less so and a filling of that empty space with what wants to be that hasn’t been yet.
We wait too long.
We wait until the garage is full. We delay until someone has to call the doctor for us — or the therapist. We put off applying for the new job until we are sick to death of the old one. We delay the art project until it is too late to do it. We retire to late. It is easier to drift, to float than to act out something new. We hawk the past to ourselves to avoid buying our tickets to the good future.
We neglect our craft. We slouch toward the future.
I wonder. Is it time for you and me to stop doing what we are doing so we can start doing what we really want and need to be doing. — the good stuff, like more yacking?
What isn’t working?
What might be better?
Don’t slouch toward Bethlehem; don’t amble toward the future.
Run toward it!
Thrive! 