The exercise:
The prompt today: the learning curve.
I learned a very important lesson in training today: in order to survive seven hours in the sauna room, get there first and sit directly in front of the fan.
Mine:
Perched on the starting line, the peak seems unattainable, hidden behind clouds of confusion. Students on either side of you are digging in their heels, crossing their arms, and muttering dark threats about not even trying.
There is a temptation to join them in their grumbling but you push it away. Instead you begin to examine the ground before you and soon realize that there is a way through the razor sharp glass and massive boulders.
Those who have gone before you have cleared a path.
Knowing that you are not the first fills you with confidence. You take the first step, leaving the others behind. The going is not easy but it is manageable.
As you near the top the clouds begin to clear and you pause to admire the view. Far below you hear the struggles of your fellow students and wonder what they are stumbling over. With a shrug you continue on to the peak.
Once there you smile as you survey the remaining terrain, knowing that it's all downhill from here.
5 comments:
Heh, sounds like that fan is all set to become your best friend! Still, I'm glad that there is a way to make the sauna more endurable.
I like your description of the learning curve, though those boulders and the glass sound fearsome! I always enjoy a challenge, myself ;-)
The learning curve
"Isn't this a little cruel?" said Dr. Septopus as they watched the Green Lightbulb pick himself up and run headlong into the near-invisible glass walls of the maze again.
"It's a learning curve," said the Taskmaster, laying down his cookbook and baring his teeth in what Dr. Septopus hoped was a smile.
Oops, sorry, double-posted there!
'I was talking to some of the guys earlier.'
'Yeh?'
'We were discussing best teaching practices. Best ways to get the kids to learn stuff.'
'What's wrong with the way it's always been done?'
'Well, you know, just sort of pushing them out into the world, sink or swim, isn't it, maybe, a little cruel?'
'You think so?'
'Yes. I was thinking, maybe some private coaching or something. Or gettign someone else in to talk to them before...'
'Sorry to interupt, but we planned it for today, and it's gonna happen today.'
'Whooa - not so aggressive, honey.'
'Duckie, will you listen to yourself? It's a hard life out there, with a steep learning curve. Sink or swim really does sum it up.'
'But surely we could ...'
'No, we couldn't. Are you chickening out of doing it? Have I got to do this, as well as everything else for them?'
'Yes, I guess you do. I just think it's too severe. I'm going out.'
Later ...
'OK my little chicks - who wants to go for a little outing with Mummy? What a racket, I thought you'd all want to. Right, line up along that side - stop pushing, you'll all get to go.'
She moved over to join them, spread her wings and swept them all over the edge of the nest. They tumbled, beak over tail to the waters below, piping, shrilly.
'What was all the fuss about. Duckie?' She asked him later. 'We're ducks, it's the way things go. Get over it. They all survived, just look at them - born to it!'
He ducked his head down and brought up a choice piece of weed.
'You're right; they're doing just fine.' He admitted, stroking her bill with his. 'Maybe we should do it all over again?'
'I've got a headache.' she said.
Greg - yeah, that fan is good stuff. I'm currently trying to figure out how to adopt it :P
Ah, poor Green. He suffers so for my entertainment :)
Christine - Hah, I quite liked that. Excellent final line too :)
And thanks for dropping by and contributing!
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