This month . . . .

     A while back I spent an inordinate amount of time learning how to, discussing how to, and arguing about how to measure success. It is a slippery thing, success; like that golden winged mechanical tidbit in the broom-flying game in Ms Rowling’s novels it often seems to want to elude most of us. Other times, we stumble over it but don’t see it at all for what it is, so we cannot for the life of us discern that we should pick it up. Or, worst of all, we cannot make ourselves pick it up — our fingers just won’t close around the gizmo. I don’t know why this is, but I’ve heard about it and such a truth makes me frown.

     The truth is, success doesn’t wait at the end of hard work, patient as that dog at the front door when we left in the morning, cup of joe in hand. Success, despite all of the late-night infomercials’ claims to the contrary, is an animal not unlike the snow leopard, impossibly beautiful when you catch a glimpse of them off in the distance, across the hillside where you roll your inevitable rock, but gone by the time you grab your camera.