​There is a deadline.  There always seems to be a deadline.  Pay the water bill, feed the parking meter out front before the last 15 minutes are up, fix the leaking roof, save money for retirement, read two books for class next week, respond for jury duty and yes, write this blog.
 
We are all different in our approach...unique, motivated or uninspired.  Some may begin a week in advance, gather information, weigh things and consider all angles, while others may thrive on adrenaline and need the quiet of night to glue a collage onto a presentation board.  If it all works out in the end, what's the difference?
 
Blood pressure, stress, a last minute flat tire that requires effort to fix.  Hey, no matter how prepared one seems to be, a bad day may happen regardless.  A bird flies overhead and "splat" moments before walking through the doors for that career changing presentation.  The designer suit that normally offers a boost of confidence, toast.
 
We all make the best of our styles for accomplishing.  I see this contrast between my daughter and son often.  Daughter is the sort who begins a task many weeks in advance.  She'll take notes, measure and gather information.  She'll lay things out in a logical sequence.  I hear classical music as she works.  The end result is a display of human perfection.  The shimmering font is married to the color scheme on her poster board.  Her satisfaction for a "job well done" is apparent.
 
My son on the other hand, does his best while working at an accelerated pace.  His mind clicks differently.  He thrives with movement.  Son's inner music carries the fast beat of punk rock.  He meshes with an impossible tempo, he is a quick shot of creativity...nailing a masterpiece each and every time.  His display is illuminated by neon and spray paint on brick.  While some may argue that graffiti is not befitting, the sales numbers indicate that his approach is quite effective.  He is a natural. 
 
Of course that leaves us with the mom style of meeting a deadline.  After she has helped son and daughter with their projects, she finds her way to the computer at three in the morning.  Her eyes are gritty and she feels burned out but she is the "little train who thinks she can," so she does.  Word after word appears on screen.  Her music playing is not music at all, but the sound of a noise maker projecting a constant loop of waves crashing onto the shoreline.  She imagines seagulls, a sunset and hot sand beneath her tender feet.  Her display is a combination of sand sculpture and twigs that are arranged into words.  She seems trapped between child's play and the responsible life of an adult.
 
Who is to say which road is the one best traveled?  If the deadline is met and the end result is that of quality, does it matter how anyone arrives there?  We all hold value, we all have a choice surrounding the "how to" of self expression.  So, we keep what works for us and toss the rest.  We proudly stake claim to our own personal groove. 
 
If everyone maintained the same approach with the same outcome with the same generic poster board, wouldn't life seem boring and uneventful? 
 
So I say let's stop trying to squeeze everyone into the same box.  Let's stop trying to freeze thoughts, microwave movements and collect snowflakes for the mantle over the fireplace.  Embrace and appreciate...and as long as the job gets done, and is that of quality, no worries.
 
Good night all.  See you in a few short hours when my 3 a.m. ramblings finds a path onto your screen. 
 
Now where did I leave my glasses? 
 
~Trixie Archer