Fire In The Belly

I sat there every night.  The ping-pong table had been converted into the largest desk any 17 year old kid ever had.  I poured over my books, calendar, and notes plotting and scheming.  It was 1985 and I was blasting Journey “Escape” (… dooohnnn’t stop belieeeving!”) on 8-track.  No, I wasn’t cool enough to actually have “cassette tapes”.   My sister’s hand-me-down Sears “stereo” was my personal jukebox.  But there, in the basement of my parent’s house, in my personal teen-cave, I was plotting my own breakout like Eastwood in “Escape From Alcatraz” except that I wouldn’t actually have to glue hair on a manikin to make my break.

My burning desire to bust out was fueled by the classic combination of teen angst and perceived parental tyranny.  In my mind I was surely the ONLY teen forced to wear Toughskins instead of Levi’s, Converse instead of Nike, and humiliated with a midnight curfew!    Sure, I was completely oblivious to the fact that my high-school popularity was severely limited by my 141 lb physique and propensity to invite friends over to play with my “home computer” (TI-99 4A).  But, that was not the point.   I was hellbound to escape the minimum security prison that was my parent’s house!    And that meant college.   And that meant focus, planning, and relentless hard work.   The fire in my belly was burning and it felt good.

Fast forward 25 years and let’s check on that fire.  Hmmm… some smoldering smoky embers but not really an open flame per se.  I’m fortunate to have achieved many of my goals over the years and carved out a relatively comfortable existence.   So now it’s “comfort” that is my curse.  It tends to leave the flame quietly sitting there like the little blue pilot light on the stove.   Sure, it’s a flame, but it’s not really cooking anything, is it?   But, now I know that it’s the fire that makes the change.    Like ancient North American people knew:  

At first there was a tree.

Then I wielded the ax and flame. 

And hence brought forth a canoe

Which took me to distant lands.

Thank goodness I’ve long since escaped the basement and 8-tracks but sometimes I do miss the ping-pong table.  It was a place where I could spread out all my books, plans, and ideas.   And think.   Like Sun Tzu once said, “The general who wins the battle makes many calculations in his temple before the battle is fought.”   It’s as much about the planning and thinking as it is about fighting the battle.

And so now I look ahead to 2011 with these things in mind:

To establish my temple and lay plans.

To reignite.  

To rekindle the fire in the belly.

To ward off “good enough” as the enemy of excellent.  

To make my mark.

Like that scene in Toy Story when Syd (the evil kid next door) takes the magnifying glass and focuses the sunlight so as to burn a small hole in Woody’s forehead.   Upon coming to life, Woody exclaims “Ouch!   I hope that doesn’t leave a mark!”    Bad for Woody, but that’s exactly what I’m striving for in 2011.   Refocused energy, time, and passion.   And, with some good luck, it will leave a mark.

Happy Holidays!

TomMc