starting over

My wordle winning streak recently ended at 137. I had turned off “hard mode” for a quicker game because it was late. But then I made a careless mistake, which meant I had two choices at the last round. I think I picked comly instead of coyly.

I took some solace upon learning that I was not alone in missing that word but I think I’d also become a bit cocky. When I took to social media to mope (mostly) in jest, a wise friend asked if a game we always win is worth playing.

Her words made contact in a way other adages? anecdotes? about perfectionism have wiffed. Yeah yeah I know Michael Jordon has missed a lot of free throws, the best hitters only leave the box 1/3 of the time, and first drafts are rarely the best ones.

If I think too deeply about whether a game we always win is worth playing, the power of the sentiment fades. What do we mean by worth anyway?

But if let the idea blaze in my peripheral vision, I can see challenges as less about swings and misses and more about the ferocity of the pitches. Or maybe equal to. That math does not matter as much as acknowleding the difference between the minor and major leagues.

Oh goodness, this is all falling apart, like metaphors that have been stewing a long time.

What I want to say plainly is that I am starting a 137 day writing streak. It is to honor a journey my kid started today and to hold myseld accountable for the changes I’ve been working on (or talking about working on) in my own life.

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