Roadblocks

Sometimes, the best laid plans are laid to waste.  Besides your random road maintenance traffic diversion surprises that we are all numb to, you could hit a deer on your way to a ski trip and get stuck in a tiny motel for the weekend.  You could break a sax spring at the start of a gig making it impossible to play G# (a note that comes up quite often, in case you were wondering).  You could publish your book before you proofed the graphics and find out how bad they are after it starts selling…  All of these things have now happened to me and worse could happen to you.  They could be your fault…or someone else’s, or no one’s, that’s not the point!  All of them will confound your plans.  It’s frustrating, I know.  You tell yourself “It happens to everyone,” but that doesn’t solve anything.  So first, your amygdala fires – then you fight, flee or play dead – there’s a time for each. But somewhere lurking between fighting and fleeing and playing dead is another way of being – another way of like schussing around poles or dancing between raindrops – a way like matrixing time or defying gravity or folding nature upon itself, effortlessly.   For my latest roadblock, I swerved just so and dug deep into my problem-solving bag of tricks – deep past my ego (and my id for that matter) and into my pocketbook – to a proven, time-tested pro-procrastechnique.  I hired a professional.

Watch for that book at your nearest Amazon store!