In the moment. Every cell of your being is focused, alive. Quivering. Your eyes pierce, breath labors in and out. Sometimes you realize you are holding it in, chest expanded outward, lungs full, til you remember and let it out in one long hiss.
It is as if every nerve cell is on alert. Paying attention as closely as a Masai on a hunt through the jungle, as an astronaut tethered by a thin cord to a space shuttle, floating through darkened space. Quiet. Or ears pounding. But always alone.
When doing your best, you are always alone. You against time ... you against limits set from the outside-- challenges, doubts, others. Inside, there is no challenge that is too hard. It is a focus like a laser -- I can do this! Pay attention. Watch. Your eyes slits, minimizing distractions. Dredging up talent and passion from the core of your being like lava from the center of the Earth.
Perhaps the Earth, quietly spinning on its axis, its job to keep spinning, never wavering one inch, always holding the perfect angle to keep its living surface still living, day after day, century after century... does the earth forget that in its heart lies the molten core of passion that created the very life it must now protect? Does the Earth still remember the rumbling that gave way to the explosions of volcanoes, erupting with one goal -- RELEASE! NOW!
When you are completely focused on the creation of a moment, time stands still as the passion begins to stir... and the crack begins til you cannot control it. And out comes creation, leaving behind temporary exhaustion mixed with the exhilaration of a new birth. Of an idea. Of art. Of a record set. Of a lfe.
That is doing your best. It will happen with or without your permission. It happens when it is time, whether you are ready or not. Creation bubbles under the surface.