We are judged by what we finish,
not what we start.
Hectic days infect us with an amnesia of our actions. Despite our certain knowledge of constant and diligent effort, we sense we’ve fallen further behind.
The determination to achieve is fueled by the knowledge that we can do what we set out to do.
Without believing we can make a difference, even the strongest amongst us get run down. Both sprints and marathons require bright ribbons to mark and entice us towards the end of the race.
In a perfect world, the heavens would announce every achievement with a herald of trumpets. In the world we’ve been dealt, we must blow our own horns, even if we’re both trumpeter and audience.
Every achievement, from finishing a tiny scrap of writing, to placing the call we’ve been avoiding, to the completion of that six month project, is worthy of noting and celebrating. Whether it is with a sly smile of satisfaction, a mark made on a list or a dance of joy performed in solitude; every celebration honours past efforts and prepares us for the next activity.
We measure distances with a ruler, time by the ticks of a clock and small steps of progress by tasks scratched off our list.