Steadily

When I was a child, I was the type of person who would finish my summer homework with about seven days left.

My mother was extremely angry, and I think I was more frightened by her fierce anger than by the fact that my summer homework hadn't been started, so I worked frantically to finish my homework. In the last week or so, I had to write a diary, read book, write book report, do drills, draw picture, and even do independent research. However, it is fascinating how I manage under pressure. Of course, I could not remember everything from summer vacation in my diary, but I was strangely serious about not wanting to lie(I wish I'd used that seriousness to write everyday... ) My mother would pull out her planner or pull out newspapers she'd saved and give me hints like, "It rained on this day, try to remember what kind of day it was." So I would desperately try to remember. For example, if my friends came over that day I would write it down. And that would help me remember. In this war-like situation, my friends would invite me over to hang out, but I had to stay home and finish my homework. My mother would say, "Explain yourself," as I looked awkward and embarrassed. I said "Sorry, I haven't finished my summer homework yet." I still remember my friend's short reply, "Eh....not yet?", and the surprised look on her face. I'd hear my mother urging me from the back, "It is about the time to get to your desk..." and I'd trudge back to my desk and resume my homework. "You are like a novelist before a deadline," my mother would tease me, and I'd mumble to myself "I am not that good." And then I'd silently work on my homework.

I knew I'd had enough of this pain, but I felt I'd continued doing it every year, even as an adult, without any remorse. To make worse, the essays and independent research I'd written this way were often recognized, which may have made me feel like I was taking the world for granted.

However, once I turned 35, this method began to cause me great fatigue, and I began to truly dislike myself, wondering, "How long do I intend to continue living like this?" I eventually came to fully accept that "I can not compete with people who have worked hard."

I realize, I should work steadily, not over think and just do it.

The things you do day after day over many years. It feels like something is being "formed", and it is different from just giving it your all for a short time; it feels more certain. There are people who run every day for years, people who tend to their gardens, people who cook, and all sorts of people who tackle all sorts of things steadily. It is a way to become that person's place. Not to show off to others, and not to have any expectations.

If you work hard at something, it may seem mundane at that time and you may not feel much of it while you are doing it, but when you look back, I think it will have became something huge and have shaped who you are.