Yes and no, success and failure, anxiety waiting on the cusp of every conversation. No satisfaction, no complacency, relaxation a luxury, stemming from burnout. Where does it come from, this desire to succeed, to push further and further? Satisfaction reserved for the bigger and better. Body slumping, slouching, slithering with apathy when defeat appears, sweat dripping in anxious rivers when success suggests new responsibility. Life fractured, begging reaction, never able to conclude what is better. Stagnation and ease, continued stress and success, or even a recession to less, all begging to be pursued.
Effort
Early, on a crisp September morning, the sun tries to crest the mountains in Eastern Washington, but has so far only managed to send a few tentative tendrils over the peaks. This effort, however, is far more beautiful than the final success would ever be. It is like the child learning to read – his skills as an orator, once an adult, might stun crowds and begin a movement, but his first attempts at reading puts a smile on the face of a jaded teacher, a feat much more difficult to accomplish than agitating men to a fever pitch.
The early efforts are more wonderful than the final success because they hint at untried horizons, at successes only hoped for. While final accomplishments should always be lauded for the achievements that they are, perhaps it is even more important to congratulate people on the rough drafts that they craft on the way to success.
Thoughts of a Nation 