Always so close…

The man fumbled his way along the wooded path clutching at faded memories.
“So close,” he muttered under his breath, “always so close.”
He remembered as a child how his mother’s kiss could instantly vanquish any bump or bruise and how the cartoon super-heroes that adorned the Band-Aids over his cuts and scrapes gave him a sense of invincibility.
Seemed so long ago.

At 14 he broke his arm.
The baseball coach told him that he’d make varsity that year as a pitcher, the youngest player on the squad–until the accident.
He let go of that dream, rejected by fate, or so he thought at the time.
So close.

At 19 he tasted true love, at least as true as his unspoiled, virgin heart could taste.
When truth left, deep scars filled the void, flavors of bitterness, mistrust, fear and other nameless demons that established residence unannounced.
He took a wrong turn, looked outward instead of in, sought refuge in cheap highs and endless pursuits.
He found little solace, even when the distractions came disguised as success.

Then came the crash, the big one, the one that left only ashes and lessons, and a jaded filter that cast a gray, morbid film on his outlook.
Still, a hollow voice echoed somewhere deep, a thin, tinny sound he found annoying–”so close, eh? What are you gonna’ do now, quit?”
He wondered, as he wondered now, if that notion had any real merit, if certain walls never came down, built too strong to crumble or even crack, stalwart to the grave, a place from which their legacy still sent its tendrils creeping through generations like insidious spiders of doubt and despair.
“Close to what?” he spat.

He cleared enough space to shed a few tears, though more the shallow cries of disappointment than any kind of cleansing or healing.
As he wallowed, the inner cackling taunted him again: “Close or closed down, closed up, closed out? Mr. Close or Mr. Closed?”

He wanted to give up, toyed with the idea, turned it over again and again.
So what if he packed up shop?
So what if he checked out?
No more Mommy’s kisses or magic Band-Aids.
Who would know or care?
Except for that nagging, hanging question that would haunt him forever: “What if you really were that close?”

It gnawed on his psyche and tormented him out of inertia.
Close to what he wasn’t sure–just “close”.
He began to amble, as he ambled now and took comfort in the forward motion.
If he could only keep moving.

39 and so close.

Success Quotes

How long should you try? Until.

If you don’t like where you are, change it! You’re not a tree.
-Jim Rohn

Key Points

How unfortunate that so many of us are a mere fraction away from success when we decide to give up and throw in the towel.  A tiny instance of neglect, after months or even years of effort and struggle results in naught.  What a shame!  

Perhaps of even greater consequence, the muscle built up until that point suddenly withers, evaporates and disappears–unlike the victor who picks his weary bones off of the ground, scoffs at the cuts and bruises and notes the inner forging of strong character, the precursor to the next victory. What a waste!

The decision to continue in the face of adversity or following a defeat never comes easily and yet forms the bedrock of a successful life.  Visionaries are often simple dreamers with an under-developed sense of fear. They don’t know when to quit, so they don’t. As a result, they achieve miracles.

Make the commitment and stick around. Do the work and keep at it. As the wise saying proffers: 

“Some people break.  Others break records.”