You’ve gone on for a long time. You’ve lost sight of the starting line, but can’t quite view the finish. You can’t articulate what you’ve done, exactly, but it feels like you’ve been doing it forever.
You fight to keep your head up, sweat streaming down your face. You catch a glimpse of your guide next to you, who seems unfazed.

You dare to ask, “Are we there yet?”

The question feels silly coming out of your mouth. Of course you’re not there yet! You’re still going, aren’t you?

“Keep moving,” your guide prods gently, putting one foot in front of the other, as you strive to do. “You’ll get there. Just don’t stop.”

How much more must you plan to go?

Yes, the novelty of having begun is long gone. All that’s left is you, the commitment you made, and anyone who stuck around long enough to outlast the initial shot of adrenaline. Those people, you notice, are significantly fewer than the population who came to watch your glorious start. Some gave up after beginning to chase the thing with you; others moved on to their own pursuits after rooting for you early.

Slowly, gradually, the vision you held in such high esteem wanes under the steady pressure of fatigue and the mundane. Progress has become less about reveling in warm fuzzies and more about tricking your mind to watch the horizon instead of your feet. The road has become more narrow, and there is less room for the half-hearted.

No one watches with intensity.

No one knows what you do but you.

This is where your grit is found, the unearthing of your true desire for the thing you decided to chase. It may’ve looked grand at the start, but now you see it for what it is, hard, grueling, and trying in the best and worst ways.

This is the inglorious stage of Work, the stage where you learn more about what your goal demands and what you really want. What was once a dream becomes more real, taking on skin that feels entirely other than what you anticipated. As you progress, you feel acutely the pain of dedication. Your heart may as well be outside your body; you’ve poured its contents and wrung it out in hope and desperation.

Are you willing to keep pouring, to push, to press into the frustration? Will you confront the identity crisis in its many forms? This toll threatens to bankrupt you. It requires so much more than anyone advertised. What can really come of it?

There is only one way to discover that last answer:

Keep chipping away.

How do you continue to chip away? Who has helped you stay the course? While chipping away can be tiresome, the result can be rewarding. Join me next week as I process the sometimes frightening effect of Accomplishing.