Silence... blissfully-cruel silence.
No... applause, cheers.
No... boo’s, critiques.
The silence created when the space of your mind is flooded with so much input,
that it has the eternity of a moment in which to stop and feel the powerful emptiness of nothing.
Birthed from this nothing is an exacting of the task, the thing, the skill developed.
The skill developed leaves behind a remnant, a memory...
A memory of the crucible where you became enemies with failure.
Like all great villains, you and failure started out as best friends.
Now you stand juxtaposed from the noise of failure's taunting.
Merely in the silence, specific to the specificity of your purpose:
What are you to do?
What must be done?
Ostensibly focused, obsessively enveloped...
To the exclusion, ignorance, detriment of anything which does not support the task's completion.
This is not the home of the self-adulating braggart
This is not the home of the self-deprecating critic
This is the hallowed ground of performance.
This is the sacred land of competition.
This is the environment of the clear mind...
There is work to do.
Cover image credit: http://onezenzoo.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/Japenese_Zen_Monk.jpg