Obviously, I'm still working on my novel, amorously referred to as the WIP. So let's talk about work in progress, and not just the literary kind.
My body is a work in progress. I'm staying healthy, eating healthy, exercising healthy. Since August 2008 I've been keeping a workout regimen (and like everything else, I slack off at times). I've gotten better in shape since then, but it's still a work in progress. The problem is that I see myself every day, and it's hard to gauge the progress -- it's not like there's a word count. My weight continues to fluctuate between 162 and 170, for example, and my body fat is usually at 12%, and I'd like to cut down to about 8% (but damn those delicious carbs!) So, digital pictures come to the rescue. There's nothing like seeing yourself in photographs that makes you go, "Ugh!" It's amaze how your brain fools you in real life.
The same can be said about writing. Our brains fool us. We live and breathe our "work of art" for so long that often we can't really see it for what it really is. That's why it's good to step back, put the work away for a while, and come back and look at it with an objective, emotionally detached eye. Also, you won't believe the kind of mistakes, errors, and problems you can find while "listening" to your work being read out loud. I love text-to-speech technologies for that reason.
My life is also a work in progress. I know, it's actually a journey, and I try to enjoy it as much as I can, and make as many memories as I can. I look back on my life and I remember so many special moments. Still, it's a work of progress in that I continue to want to improve myself and change for the better, be more compassionate about others, be a bit less self-centered, be more genuine and less concerned about how other people judge me. It's often a balancing act. A work in progress. Maybe in 30 years I'd finally get it right. Or is there a thing called "right"?
My life is filled with special moments, and also defining moments of change. I can recount all those moments: the day I left home to come to America, the day I got my first job, the day I fell in love, the first time I bought a house, the first time I drove a car, the first time I made love, the first time I went to a friend's funeral, the first time I broke a promise. My warts and scars go along with my honors and glory, and I wouldn't give up any of that. And now I'm on the verge of embarking on some new changes, and I'm excited about them. It's a work in progress that I know I'll be very proud of, and I know will change me forever. I can't wait to see how that goes.
Life's full of wonders. And I'm glad I'm still a work in progress.