I hate the failure of this space. The lack of impact of this work. I know hate is a useless emotion. It feeds anger and can become all-consuming. It’s all driven by fear. I’m not afraid. What can happen?
Everything is temporary. Love. Pain. This life. In scope, everything is a moment. Some are more consistent than others. All leave their mark. All are valuable. All have meaning. It’s the emotion we give to them that gives them power over us.
This hasn’t launched. We did the work. We put in the time. It hasn’t stuck. It didn’t catch. How could it? It’s a subtle art in a world of blunt instruments, looking to bludgeon the attention spans of the masses. How could the expectation ever have been to be seen?
Hope. It’s necessary. Sometimes it’s evil. We cling to it. It keeps us moving forward. We need it. In some instances there is none, no matter how romantic the vision, there is no way forward.
Adapt or die.
Our expectation is this. It aligns with our vision, which came from our core. It’s how we want this to be. We can’t change it now. We won’t. Why align ourselves with what everyone else is doing. It hollows out the meaning of our actions. Since when has meaning paid the mortgage?
So we are failing.
Maybe we will rise from this failure stronger for having had the experience. It’s too soon to say. This took everything we had to start. I don’t know if we’ll have the energy to process where we went wrong, correct, and throw ourselves into it again.
It is our everything. It has to mean something. It has to work. It’s what brings us joy. Maybe we can start again.
We have to try.
Don’t we?
