The cursor blinks at me with an unrelenting cadence.  The blank page, whitist I’ve ever seen.  It’s like a snow squall of flakes larger than life, pinging against my face causing my nerve endings to react with a pricking sensation.  I don’t know what to write about.  I want to quit.  I want to exit stage left, no one would miss it…would they?

The cursor…still blinking at me.  The tempo like that of an EKG.  The tempo that brings life…involuntary…the heart beats on.

Perhaps I should write about my friend, who’s baby was born a few weeks ago.  They named her the same name as my oldest daughter.  But this baby isn’t doing well.  Turns out, her little heart was formed differently than normal.  She turned blue within the first moments of life, unable to take her first breath.  She was rushed to the specialists.  She’s 10 days old…and hanging on to life.  This story gets me more than others.  It’s because the mom is my friend, and it’s because that little baby bears the same name as my daughter.  I pray for this little baby quite often throughout my day.  Just as I do my own family.

The cursor…by now, blinding.  I can barely behold the sight of it.  It seers into my very core, begging me to tiptoe into the torment.  You see, writing can be hard.  It forces you to reconcile your thoughts and actions.  It keeps you accountable to your words.  Once printed, forever now in the annals of history.  And when your thoughts and actions are at odds, the tension is palpable.  But you keep typing, until you work it out.  And in so doing, you break the tension, and clear the way.

Perhaps I should write about my biggest fear.  The fear of failure.  So much responsibility is heaped upon my shoulders, I can’t mess it up.  I’ve written about the idea that you don’t Win or Lose…rather you Win or Learn.  But to live it out?  Not so easy.  If I fail, I take others down with me.  This isn’t a zero-sum game.  The decisions I make can have lasting effects, on this generation and the next.  In the meantime, I put two feet on the ground each morning…and I give it my best.  I try to spend time with my kids, my wife, my God…never enough, but it will have to suffice.  I spend a lot of time at work, trying to get that right as well.  Failure isn’t an option.  Perhaps that will be the death of me.

The cursor…still as the calm of night.  Not budging to the right as it normally would on good writing days.  It’s just…there.  Blinking.  Mocking me.  Laughing at my inability to parse through the jumbled words in my head.  I have so much I want to say.  Perhaps it’s best if I say nothing at all.

But I can’t just say nothing.  That’s not what a blog is about.  But, if I’m honest…I don’t know if I even know what this blog is about.  I’m a financial advisor.  Yet, vastly less than a quarter of my blogs have anything to do with finances.  And yet, people read them.  This whole thing started the year I was writing my book.  I felt so boxed in by that writing that I needed an outlet to express something else…something different.  My book dealt with one single story, and the learnings from it.  Yet, I felt there was so much else to say.  Life is so much more than budgets and bank accounts.  Too, I wanted to leave a bit of a living legacy.  So often, our legacy is found in our estate planning documents that tells the attorney’s where to divide our earthly possessions.  But do our kids really know us?  Do they know our successes and failures?  The wins and the learnings?  The battle scars and the victory marches?  Do they know how much I love their mother?  How I’d do anything for them, at any moment, of any day, at any time?  Do they know how much I depend on my faith to get me through?  And how that same faith can be there for them too?  These things didn’t make into my book.  But slowly, yet surely, over these years since I’ve started writing, they’ve made into my blog.  And I wanted to make them public for others to follow along.  I wonder if my kids will ever take the time read these someday.

The cursor…soften its evil glare.  Begging me to translate thoughts into keystrokes.  Desiring to move to the right.  Beckoning me to write.

But I just don’t know…

I don’t know if I have anything to say…

I don’t know if anyone is listening…

Perhaps I should stop.  Start again tomorrow.  There will certainly be more to say then.

Perhaps I should stop altogether.  What hasn’t been said that’s already been said?

I wonder if it’d matter.

I wonder if anyone would notice.

I wonder if anyone would care.

The cursor…friend or foe.  Today, I can’t decide.

But this I know.

I’m not a quitter.  I won’t stop pressing forward until the words just won’t come.

Sure, they’ll be tough days.  Days when the blank page holds out for the win.

But I’ll be back.  Surely someone is reading.  Surely someone is finding value.  Surely someone cares.  Surely this living legacy will have some sort of impact on my kids, on my family, on my readers…


But that will all have to wait for another day.

The cursor won the battle today…but it will not win the war.

Thoughts already percolating in my head…I can’t wait for next time…

The blank page awaits.