That’s where you hit it. You hit the nail on the head to drive it deeper in. And then you hit it again until there is nothing more to hit. Flush to the surface. I find comfort in the childlike simplicity of this action but there is something so complicated about the why of it. What if I weren’t so spot-on and steady with my hammer? I think I’d be happier. I am convinced of that. Those elephant footprints around a missed nail add necessary character and appeal.I have begun the summer feeling rather dull and like a failure without real reason. The heat depresses me. I want to rip out my garden and get day-drunk and stay up late watching the Tour de France. When I am at work I stay extra hours to be in the central air. I am hiding at work. I am hiding in my bad habits.
I sort of lost my footing and now need to refocus, revamp my previously threadbare plans. This idea of a routing myself toward a new goal seems tangible and I know I will achieve it. Like building a foundation from scratch with both found pieces and newer materials. I can picture it in my head clearly. I will hit the nail on the head every time until it is complete. I know it will be strong enough to bear the weight of my pachyderm size future. It has to.
