I glided through an agglomeration of brick and steel, distantly. Not to impugn the last 106 minutes (for it was of the highest and best order), but I too seek a quantum of solace.
More news as it comes to hand mind.
About a month ago, I finally finished my variously-described law degree (and how). With the flourish of a pen one Saturday evening I satisfied the formal requirements of the last exam of the last course of the degree, and promptly set about celebrating the end of an era – for quite an era it had been. However, after the party lights had dimmed, and while the rest of the world busily continued about its business, my world brought me pause.
Not more than two days later I would begin gainful employment at a corporate litigation specialist law firm. One might describe this as foolhardy, and I will confess to a certain amount of hesitance about diving into yet another whirlwind (cum tornado) era. But any uncertainty was quickly assuaged – I soon found myself doing the work I had prepared at length to do, and enjoying it all the while.
As I reflect on this change of lifestyle, now some two months later, I am able to identify some elements of my world which baulked at the change. For example: working at a desk throughout the day. Mid-afternoons without fail, I found myself drifting off into a reverie of lethargy and carbohydrate-induced stupor. Frustrated, I would amp up on caffeine and try to focus. Now, however, I find that I have grown accustomed to the daily cycle, and even perhaps adapt myself to it. The mid-afternoon sleepies still
attack now and again (today being a fine example of “again”) but I am experiencing a great deal more vivacity than at the start.
All in all, the reward is certainly worth the effort. And some effort it was.
I want to be better than this. I want more.
I was listening to the radio while driving home from an event last night – it was ABC Classic FM, and the Sydney International Piano Competition was playing. An extraordinary delight to be able to hear such fine piano and chamber music, and it played so exquisitely.
At a break in the performance, the ABC diverted from the music to play some phone messages about the competition left by listeners. One of them in particular caught my ear. A father from Mt Gambier called in to express his gratitude for the ABC’s broadcast of the piano competition. He told a little story.
Rather than reading to his young children at bedtime the night before, he instead turned out the lights and sat with them, and they listened to a piano sonata on the radio together. But the moment of pure joy that filled my heart was his recount of the slow movement. For it was then his son had turned to him and said, “Daddy, I’m crying…”
A lesson for all of us.
Wait for amazing. Not just something – everything.
Aim for extraordinary. Do anything that needs to be done to get it. Change everything if necessary.