A new project is all about possibilities. It’s like the beginning of a long hike; I’m prepared, fresh and ready to go. The entire landscape is spread out before me. I can see my destination, way over there, miles away.
At the beginning of a project, I don’t worry about all the treacherous downhills and uphill slogging I’m going to have to do to get to the end. I just see the spectacular scenery.
I can see in detail the first part of my task, and the way seems clear, the path well-marked. I wave my hand in the direction of my ending and say, “Then I’ll go that way.”
It’s beautiful and optimistic. I know it will end.
After thirty thousand words, I’ll suddenly find myself at the edge of a cliff, with no way down to the bottom because I’ve forgotten to pack a rope. After forty thousand words, I’ll realise I should have taken a different path altogether, because the one I’ve chosen has veered the wrong way. At sixty thousand words, I’ll see my goal within reach, but there will be nothing but an impossible climb between me and it.
I know all this is to come. I’ll plunge in momentarily, but I’ll stand here just a moment longer and enjoy the view.