Improvement is frustrating, lonely and yet exhilarating. It somehow starts with moths in the stomach and ends up with that warm soup satisfaction. Struggle, waiting, followed by further struggle; progress is made by tugging one string then the other. It is hard to accept scaling the ropes alone, but tottering assent is always this way. Once at the top I realize how easily I could slide to the bottom, sometimes friction is all that keeps me up. Establishing a new altitude is challenging; I must ground myself in a new way. My talents hinder and aid me. I must open the correct doors in my mind and avoid the traps in the floor. Stuttering through requirements and obligations I transform but only slowly, earning each drop of comfort from a job just done.
Think smart, speak clearly.