Have just watched Spurs lose. I am, to put it bluntly, disappointed…. 


I know to many of you watching football is akin to walking through the woods on a frozen night in the buff, but to me watching Spurs is like watching poetry in motion. Apart from tonight. Tonight it was like watching a man looking for a £5 note that you can see is clearly nailed to a huge tree with a sign that points quite obviously to it, and yet the man just keeps wandering around the tree, unable to find the cash. I shout ‘it’s on the tree you big badass’ and he keeps missing it. Badass. 


I should not be disappointed, upset at a game that involves men earning far more than me in a week than I earn in several years, but I am. 


Disappointment.


What drives at you, what knocks on your head so often that it drives you insane? Is it disappointment? Knock. Knock. Knock.


For me, real deep disappointment is what is left after all else has failed. I don’t want to reach that point too often. I always want to think I can still go again, try again, push again, so that true deep soul destroying disappointment is kept from my door. What you need, to push against the unending swell that this emotion can send, is hope. And you need to act. In other words, you need a purpose. This is the dam that keeps all disappointment at bay.


I watched a programme on Harper Lee today. Only wrote one book. A small piece called ‘To Kill a Mockingbird.’ Probably my favourite book of all time and the favourite of so many. One book. Won a few prizes. Does Harper sit around today feeling nothing but disappointment? I suspect not. Another amazing fact was that friends gave her the money to take a year out and do nothing but write that book. Were they disappointed in their act of friendship? They still looked sprightly in their late 80’s in the documentary and far from disappointed about anything.  


Having spent several minutes typing up this blog, I find that I have forgotten the disappointment of the Spurs defeat. That it has found its natural and rightful position in my brain marked under ‘I feel less than delighted about that but I have a life’ section.


I look to my purpose and hope you can too.


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