Settling

You know you are not supposed to do it -- according to all the motivational speakers, the career counselors, your job description -- but you have to settle sometimes for what you get. You can't afford that fancy Subaru Cross Trek, so you buy a little Versa. No power or sporty cachet, and the women are not impressed. In fact the guy next to you buys the Suby and gets the woman, the job, the promotion, the publication; he passes you on every bike ride, eats more green, leafy vegetables, and is a high-flying success story because he is more daring. He rides a rigid single speed instead of a cushy, old-man bike full-suspension. He cuts in line in front of you because you are so spacey, so incoherent. Yours is a life of scattered, half-finished projects and mediocre achievements. You have failed to focus, to sustain, follow through, go deep, produce noticeable results. You are a vague facsimile of what you might have been had you lived up to your potential. And it's about over. Your body and brain are breaking down. Time's up. Game's toast. You are going to finish at the end of the pack. You need to cut your losses. Bid adieu. Time to end wanting what you can't have, throwing pearls into a bottomless pit. You got what you got. It wasn't so bad; and it's time to do something else, re-invent what's possible, given your brain, body, and empty cup of offering.