An ounce of performance is worth pounds of promises...

I have a scrap of paper scribbled with this saying by Mae West that I just found in my odds and ends drawer. I have no real idea what my original intentions were for this bit of wisdom. The moment is passed; the inspiration is gone. Sometimes I get so haphazard with all my good intentions, especially for them all to end up forgotten at the bottom of a drawer, or a to-do list, or the dreams and aspirations that got lost when we just have to buckle down and get to work. How do we keep up with our daily responsibilities - the never-ending cycle of dishes, or preparing meals, or fencing, or cleaning up (in any profession!), the packing and unpacking, the digging a hole or bearing the wind and the rain - and yet keep our heads up to check the horizon, to make sure we're still on track? To make sure there IS still a track, and not a dead end? 

Earlier this week, the ranch where I work had a truck coming to pour concrete and set posts to build a feedlot. As we were walking from one post to the next, I see my boss squinting down the line to make sure the posts are in line. He then looked around, and said, "I always wanted a feedlot." Pretty mindless task, to level a post this way and that, shovel some sludge on, another to line them up perfectly to weld on a top rail, another thing entirely to move calves in and start feeding them

I have often thought this place, unbeknownst to them, has been my saving grace in a couple different facets. I have even distanced myself a built with this recent move, but they are such a good influence on me. I am very inclined to focus on the smaller game, to make sure every detail is in line, than to look up and around at any 10,000 foot view. I every post perfectly level, but could I run a feedlot? I have my doubts. Am I trying to run a feedlot? No. The question remains, " What IS my end game here? What am I working towards?"

How many people when you politely ask how they've been, reply with deflated shoulders, a sigh, a "busy!" And how many of them are simply trying to survive daily life? How many do I actually believe are busy? All of them think they are, but are they swimming ahead or just trying to tread water to stay afloat?

All those "someday" big or small dreams and aspirations, all those notes stashed away for a time when I have "time to be inspired," need to be acted on sooner than tomorrow. I need to take the time to play out that thought when it hits me, instead of placating the thought with a scribbled note in an odds and ends drawer.