Like an aging athlete whose mind thinks he can still do what he cannot, my cancer-ridden body is discovering that it cannot cash all the checks written by my cancer-free brain.
I have so many dreams and those dreams turn into plans. The plans turn into starts, but never get finished.
I have so many things I was once good enough at that are now out of reach.
I’m not fooling anyone but myself. And I am not fooling myself very much at all.
I’ve spent a lot of time facing reality in the last couple weeks. I can no longer expect myself run a website that has to be built from scratch with my own content. I can no longer expect myself to have the discipline it takes to produce a weekly podcast. I can no longer expect myself to write a weekly series of blog posts with an emphasis on teaching what I have learned. I can no longer expect myself to always be ready to teach other people on a schedule.
I am no longer dependable and I cannot expect myself to ever be dependable again.
It feels like the stuff I have learned will just have to die with me. I cannot do the work to get it out.