Until I got married and had a child, the guilt came along.
I realized that all these claims for "spur-of-the-moment" brilliance have been benefitting no one else but me. Meanwhile, the people around me are suffering the consequences.
Like recently, I've been working on a paper for almost 12 hours a day. (I'm still not done).
Lakay had to sleep through the study lamp turned on, wake up early to prepare breakfast for my little one, prep and bring him to school, fetch him, then sometimes play with him with the time remaining before dinner and bedtime.
On the other hand, my little one had to learn to live with "fast-food" breakfast, kiss me goodbye while in bed, being carried off the bedroom whenever he wants play with me, and sometimes, being asked to keep his voice down.
And they had been through all these with the most minimal of complaints.
I have only to be thankful for their understanding and patience. But I also have to ask myself if I am worthy of these. If my paper, my work is worth all these.
There's only one way to find out. And that is, by working harder, working better. And by better, I mean with a tremendous will for self-discipline and with a keener sense of responsibility.
Because at the end of the day, no work can be perfect nor brilliant if there's no love in it.
|From Trier 2010|