Someone told me that for the Irish—the celts—beaches are in between spaces. It’s not quite one thing or the other.

Not land. 

Not Sea.

Maybe both.

Walk along the edge of the water, one foot on sand. It can give a view into things hard to see.

I am in the realm of maybe both. No job. It’s not quite summer and not quite fall. The school year starts this week.

In the in between time, before summer is ended and before I have found my next job, I am looking to check in on myself.  Do I recognize what I see?

I’m looking for a view into things. It’s not a comfortable place, spinning in place without progress.

Should I start all over again?  Give this EtchaSketch a hard shake and see what is possible?

What is stable? What can I be sure of?

I know I am committed to doing this weekly post. I may be in between a lot of things, but I am always a writer. I may not feel like it all the time. I know that feeling like it is not required.

The only qualification to be a writer is to write something.

And there it is. I can take the action—make the choice—in this space of both and neither. I don’t have to feel the progress. I can make progress without feeling it. One choice, one move is all it takes.

I don’t even have to stop the spin. I can tilt just a little to get going.

I don’t feel it yet, but I will. I can be sure of that.

It was a booklist. This substacker got me to sign up with the promise of a list of books that changed his life.

Yes please! (side note: would my substack readers like a booklist? Stay tuned!)

It was a nice booklist. I found one of the books at the library, and after a couple weeks on the waitlist I got it. ESSENTIALISM: The disciplined pursuit of Less by Greg McKeown

I’m trying to read books again not just audio, now that my eyes aren’t as tired as they were on chemo. A business self-help-y serious book that I read with my eyes open is a familiar habit I’d lost.

His idea is that people must do fewer things, and only the things that are truly essential.

I remembered another old habit: arguing with the book I’m reading.

Ok, book. Hey, I am a fan of Peter Drucker too: “Do first things first, and second things not at all.”

…said no woman ever…

Which am I supposed to do, Mr. McKeown—Breathe or eat?

There are always competing things to prioritize. I kept reading and found a section I could vibe with better: “in every set of facts, something essential is hidden…finding it involves exploring those pieces of information and figuring out the relationship between them.”

Here is why I still want to read the book. We agree on this. That is a huge part of my career, and one of the things I like. What is the things that when linked make the essence?

The throbbing deficiency is the most important thing. 

Humble things can be unbearable in their absence. And the lack so quickly forgotten once it is filled, to be upstaged by the next hunger pain.

It’s true-ish, only focusing on the essentials. It’s kind of like trying to be perfect. I will never get there, but I never want to stop trying. And for what it’s worth, I haven’t finished the book.

One of the things Chris brought into my life was old movies. He took me to a theater nearby that showed classic movies to see Lawrence of Arabia. Since I grew up largely without a TV and almost no movies, he was happy to show me these works of art. It made a big impression on me, and I remembered the experience.

This week our now local theater had a special showing of that same movie and we went to see it—this time with 15 year old Veronica. A four hour movie with intermission is not part of modern life.

Chris asked Veronica to look for how Lawrence changed throughout the movie. I saw him as a romantic idealist and was so hard on himself in the beginning.

And by the end so much had changed. 

The film is known for having a lot of space in the scenes. This space gave me room to reflect on myself too.

So much has changed for me between the time I first saw the film with Chris and this second time. More than twenty years for me and the territory of my life is changed.

Lawrence’s influence changed the land that he involved himself in. It’s changed to this day, and history has moved significantly because of what he did.

These twenty years of my life have seen a lot of change. I was more of an idealist then as well. I admire how hard Lawrence went after his goal. I have chased my own as well.

I can see that for him, those goals and ideals were so shiny and pure in the distance. I remember what I thought my goals would be before I achieved them. 

He had changed so much of Arabia. And it was not as shiny and pure as he hoped.

There was a lot I didn’t know the first time I saw that movie. I’ve covered a lot of ground between then and now. There is still a lot of path ahead. It very well could be difficult.

What I remember from the movie is this dialogue and the start. Lawrence makes a point of putting out the match with his bare fingers. His fellow soldier tries it, and declares “Ooh! It damn well ‘urts!”

Lawrence gives him a cool look and replies, “Certainly it hurts.
The trick, William Potter, is not minding that it hurts.”

I took that in  when I heard it the first time. Life can hit with stuff that hurts. I’ll make it a point not to mind.

It has begun.

I have arrived at the beginning of the end.

During the lockdown I was alone, cut off and desperate to connect with people. Who would be willing to breathe the same air?

No one knows how much it might kill you. Don’t touch anything!

While I was thinking of the death that lurks on surfaces, a friend sent out a call to a self-defense class. Would I go?

Yes! Absolutely! Anything to be around people.

This karate studio was still open. I put my kid in the class, and resisted a little bit before I started in the adult class. And then one thing led to another.

And today I join the final session to enroll in the boot camp to arrive at the Black Belt. I think back on what the last four years has covered and how I’ve learned to be a practiced fighter in far more situations than only on the mat. 

These four years have brought me to greater strength and a different mindset. Yes, I learned how to throw a punch. I also learned how to defend myself against an insulting and abusive boss, even to the point of leaving that job with a greater sense of clarity.

Sometimes I have to GET OUT of a situation. 

Sometimes I have to find a way to stay in longer. 

Like my training to get to the status of blackbelt. And also marriage.

It is a fine line I’ve been walking, learning more and more about what I can do. What can I achieve? What can I endure? How far can I push myself? 

And that’s not even taking the cancer treatments into consideration.

I remember when I first started, I was blown away by the senseis doing their moves. I had to hold onto the fence when I did a kick or I would fall over. The workouts were harder than anything I’d ever done. I was careful not to eat before class or I would throw up.

Now four years later it is easy.

And they are kicking it up another level. These senseis  know how to kick it up and that is what I’m going to have to do to get this black belt.

Anyone could do the easy thing. That’s not for me. I chose this, and many other things like it, to challenge myself. 

Now is not the time to back off. I started this whole thing wanting to be around people—at a time when the air itself seemed trying to kill me.

As I got better at fighting back, more and more things appeared that needed to be conquered, including and especially my own body.

I took the medical intervention, and kept training. Now is the time to build up my body, not only endure the attack.

This is the time to stay in and fight for the next level up.