The Dream of an Endeavor

Why is it that the mind is willing but the flesh is weak? With all the modern conveniences and the fast pace of life it would seem it should be getting easier to accomplish what you want. Instead it's like it gets harder. Of course, that could just be me. Lately, the idea of a goal seems too ethereal for my own shallow cortex. It is as if it were some Dyson-esque concept that my minute mind can scarcely comprehend. Now that I think about it, it's more like those Jello cubes that have been left on the picnic table in the sun just a little too long. They look like you could just pick 'em up and pop 'em in your pie hole. But no matter what you do, squeezing hard, squeezing gently, they just slip right out and end up running down your shirt. Honestly, I think the biggest inconsistency in my world view these days is in my goals. Put bluntly, I really don't have any. Once you lose the things you really care about, all the other things lose that much luster too. I guess I never realized how much of my life was driven by so little. Here's hoping I'm not the only one who's ever felt this way. What I find most altered is when I see my friends chasing futures and vocalizing their youthful yearnings. Once upon a time, I would have been taken in, I would have helped. I would have encouraged and mentored and consorted with them. They wouldn't have found a more avid believer in their success. Now I smile and mumble encouragements. When they ask questions and postulate their plans I mentally punch holes like a cynical cinema critic. Whereas before I would have overlooked their capacity for failure and compensated for their own lack of commitment, now I reserve my ideas, and don't profer my insights. How selfish I've become. Sometimes I think it's because of all I've lost that I cling so desperately to my own sense of self. Like I'm afraid that any part of me I invest in any part of anyone will be stolen too. What a crock, eh? The time was when I was the first to call that out for whining drivel. After all, if you don't love you won't get hurt. If you don't love, you don't live. Isn't that it? Nowadays my love is frail, tentative, aloof. Oh, don't be decieved, you wouldn't know my weaknesses just from knowing me. I am a servant still. But that is where true selfishness lies, doesn't it. I choose this life each day, each minute, conscious, calculating and committed. Truly it is one of the only things I'm good at. Single-minded and determined I proceed persistently in perseverance. My father once said, "If you want to stop smoking, stop smoking." Freakin' genius. The concept he so ridiculously reduced in this rhyme was that if you want to do something, you should just do it. Don't talk about how you are going to do it. Don't hesitate and deviate, just get it done. Boy, if that isn't me. The problem arises when you don't know what you want to do? These days, for the first time in my life, I just don't know what to do. I've been there and done that. I've had everything I wanted and had it stolen. What now? You know what they say about the greyhound who actually caught the rabbit. They're no good after that. Okay, so this got a little morose. Actually, it's a serious reflection, not intended to be a downer. Just something I've been thinking about lately. How do other people set their goals? What motivates you? What gives you a sense of security about your future?