Self-Motivation – A Practical Application1
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It had been fourteen long months since he had a job. His independent status made him particularly vulnerable to the whims of a down-turned economy as well as having its blessings when on the up side. He could do with some cash flow in, but, in truth, for him it was about skill set. It was about maintenance. Keeping his edge. He had come up with the idea of the cruise for just that purpose -- maintenance. The closed venue would provide real challenge, keep him on his toes. The good food, the sun, the crisp sea air, the social opportunities were just icing on the cake. Josiah Cross having decided on a plan of action was ready to get the ball rolling.3
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He surveyed the dining hall. The room was full of swanked out people, each looking for the center stage. His presence stirred nothing in the revelers. Nothing recommended an observant eye to pause, to take stock, to wonder at "who" he might be. His, was a look of, “one of us." He took pride in his shape-shifting abilities. A chameleon could not blend in better. His thoughts momentarily strayed to his objective. He might just accomplish some of his best work to date while on this cruise. The technical challenges to his success were many, the greatest of these being ocean locked.5
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His stroll casual, his greetings perfunctory, he seated himself at a table. Introductions traveled through the air. Hands clasped and shook, greetings exchanged. Josiah engaged each and every one around him in conversation by saying little and listening much -- head nodding, smiling, and agreeing. When he did speak it was in reinforcement of the impression of interest, sincerity, appreciation. Those with whom he engaged in conversation would remember that he was a -- really nice guy.7
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Satiated with food and with the social intercourse, he sat back and just allowed himself the enjoyment of the moment. He mentally ticked off as if on a list -- Joe Flynn with the Brad Pitt/Joe Black persona going on while Tammy White was all about faded beauty and desperation. There was hard-working clean-living Jerry Thomason, and the "my shit don't stink" Becket Worth Huddleston, the III. There were a dozen in all, each of them now a project file assigned with a quick point of reference for instant recall in Josiah's mind.9
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He rose from the table. He momentarily wondered if they could pick and chose -- who they would choose. He shook his head amused at his thought. He really did enjoy the party spirit, the pleasant banter. Spending time with all of these people was such fun. It only remained to decide which to kill. For Josiah, it was all about self-improvement and practical application of his skill set, nothing was personal.11
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