There are seasons in life that are more perspiration than inspiration.
Like a farmer, you cultivate soil, plant seeds and care for crops a lot longer than you celebrate harvests. This is laborious, thankless and unglamorous work.
I thought about this while my wife was straining from contractions over the past month in preparation for our new baby. I wanted to take it all back for her.
I thought about this while my lungs were recoiling from the sudden blast of cold winter air on yesterday's run. I wanted to call a hiatus until spring.
And I'm living with it each morning as I strain to hit my daily word count by December 31 on my next book. I keep asking where my passion went.
This is when most of us quit.
(If we can)
There's only one thing that can get us through the agony of delivering something wonderful...
A set time each day or each week when you do the hard work.
And then you show up. Each and every time.
It's on your calendar. You can't book something on top of it. You don't let friends sabotage it. If they ask, you're simply "not available."
You make it your job... and you show up for work.
Spring will be here before you know it.