Opportunity Costs
Pre note: Sometimes I get to this stuff, other times, the stories sit inside the memory chambers and collect dust. Still, again, they may be created and stagnate on the desktop, waiting for a MAC to bring them to incentive level again so I can publish them. (The old MAC laptop, alas, has been demised-ified, if such a fate exists) So, for the readers who manage to be okay despite the long rest periods in between the short burst of my self proclaimed productivity, ‘it’s on its way’…
(back to) Opportunity Costs. Walking the Dogs
If you don’t take the opportunities that are offered as the growing process continues, the chances that much will come to enrich a life exists at just below zero. We writers, pro or amateur, are always in search of inspiration; things that will force out the creative, at least as our minds see it, then present it as our egos allow, often making more of it that the reader sees. Those of us who tend to believe we are better than we are, grab at these opportunities in hopes of finding the spark that ignites the road flare, bringing attention to our creative gestures.
As quickly as we can, the knocking has to be responded to, less we end up losing it in a jumble of afterthought and distraction. So, there she was. Really. As opportunities go, there is, most likely, only an illusionary ‘nothing to see folks’ imprint in the brain that we rubberneck to see anyway. The ‘oh, here it is’ part. But there she was. We have so much in common! We’re both walking our dogs! It’s a castle topper, what walking a dog can bring. Or maybe the layer of rebar and concrete that makes a foundation for later on when the castle plans actually gets approved by the county inspector and construction can begin.
Yep. There she was. Again. (Note; smile in voice) And as circumstance would present itself, the opportunity went ‘boing!’ and popped up in front of me. So I took it. After all, I can handle rejection so what the hey? Only, there wasn’t any. Gasp, gasp. Now, what do I do? Smile and try to bring my heart’s mind to a level of reason seemed like the best alternative. Too early to talk about taking a cruise to the Caribbean together, n’est ce pas? But an opportunity arose, and I swung from the vine and hit the baseball square on the bat. Stand up double.
While waiting on the second base bag, I was made to wonder, how many times have I done just that? Nothing? And how many times have I reached for that which was passing close enough to at least reach over and ask? As often as the word ‘no’ was said in one form or another, a ‘yes’ would suffice with a higher frequency. That quick and short feeling was always good, and it didn’t really matter where it all ended up.
On the edge of the seat, the reader sits. “What happened?” They don’t want to set the book down on the nightstand because the story ending will be theirs and not the one the author intended. All part of my evil plot? No. Speaking as if trying to interpret what the writer is saying, the only reason there is nothing here is, clearly, for now, there can be no more than that. But in the mood of the passing opportunity, and for now, until then, the nothing part is really okay.
Aloha
yobech505 