The Endgame

In chess, there’s a stage in the game called the endgame. It’s when the players are left with very few pieces on the board. The good players are always thinking about the endgame and how they can turn it to their advantage. Every now and then I think about my own endgame. Not of life, even though I do think about that sometimes, but on this blog and this journey I’ve embarked upon. I’ve come a long way since day one, and I can’t really recall what life was like back then. I remember feeling hurt and sad and frustrated and angry, and I remember thinking that I needed to change and do something about my stagnant and unfulfilling life. So I started a blog and wrote about my frustrations and successes, wishes and experiments. I wrote about writing every morning, starting Insanity and eventually committing to over two hundred days of it, and reading every day. I wrote about a girl I don’t care about anymore, about my own wish to date and not doing it yet, and about a hundred other things. I’m left now with my own personal endgame.

Over the past few months, I’ve been slowly writing more and more every day, and it culminated to today, where I added another novel writing session in the afternoon. I really didn’t want to write because I was tired and annoyed after work, and I really wanted to watch the latest episode of the Walking Dead. But I made a plan, and I wrote down each small step I needed to take to ensure I complete this task, and I did it. I made my Primal Fuel shake, placed my laptop on my mStand, put my headphones on and picked some music, opened Scrivener in full-screen mode, and read the words I wrote this morning. It all seemed familiar. In the morning I usually have a cup of hot and tasty black coffee, but today I had a simple shake. I drank it all before I wrote one word, which was funny to me because I usually take a sip of the coffee in between thoughts. I didn’t have that this afternoon. Once I got started, though, the words came out just like they always do. I finished my words, crossed off the task from my list, and then started my workout. It all felt good.

I started another experiment today. I don’t know how it’ll evolve in the future because I haven’t had the time to feel it out yet. The new experiment was cooking various new recipes. I spent a good hour yesterday planning out the next two weeks worth of meals. I started off slow — many of the meals are familiar and I’ve done them many, may times before. I interspersed new meals, though, and one of those was a Western Omelet for breakfast this morning. It was simple, easy, and super delicious. I bought all the ingredients yesterday at Safeway¹, and it all came together with a very delicious, healthy, and filling breakfast. I need to do it more because I really need the practice. I need to add fewer veggies or else I won’t be able to fold the eggs in half well enough. I also need to play around with the right heat level on my stove because the directions asks for medium-low, but I think medium to medium-high works better for me. This breakfast really affected the rest of my day because I was full and very satisfied and energetic.

I’m piling up all these habits and routines, and I’m living the most fulfilling life I’ve ever lived, but like I’ve said many times before, I don’t really think this will last forever. It can’t, right? It’s too much for one man to handle, and I’m a man, and I can totally foresee myself not being able to handle this forever. What am I trying to do? What are my goals? I honestly don’t think I need an endgame or goals. I think the process is the point. The journey is everything, and I’m loving every minute it.