The hardest part.

According to my good friend Tom Petty, that would be the waiting. Clever Tom. (And, no, we're not really friends.)

Whether we realize it or not, we spend the bulk of our lives waiting. The good news is that we can control what kind of waiting it is.

1. Active waiting, aka obsessing. (Not the best way to spend our limited time on earth.)

2. Passive waiting, aka living. (Ahhhhhh...!)

And now, the parable. Years ago, when I worked for a decent-sized (but not huge) energy company, a few colleagues and I used to dream aloud about a day when we would do something together that was good and made sense and had value. And we would go about it in a manner that was good and made sense and had value. As happens, we parted ways professionally but remained in touch via lunches and e-mail communication.

Just yesterday, I received an e-mail from another colleague of the same employer, and she told me how honored she felt to have worked with the three of us for a little while. She had read my book--all the way through the acknowledgments.

And it hit me. We did it! Stasa, Stephen and I (and all the other members of my personal board of directors) actually did it. We had been waiting all that time to do our good thing, and we didn't even realize it.

Too cool.

And a lesson for me, too, in my current pursuit. I can issue press releases. I can make phone calls. I can send e-mail. But I can't make anyone do anything on the other end. That's the worst kind of waiting; when you are dependent on someone else.

In short, I can lead my horse to water, but I cannot make it drink. I learned that when I was young, naturally, but I am only now really understanding what it means and what it feels like.

Even if it's the most delicious water in the world. Even if that horse will spring up like a colt after one sip and maybe next time around the track sandbag a little bit so the trainers won't notice, and then he can avoid all the nasty PEDs we pump into those gorgeous animals and just spend his life running in a field....

But I digress (kind of my specialty--and in moments of extreme arrogance I think I have elevated it almost to an artform).

I can't speak to what will eventually motivate someone to promote my book in such a way that will lead to the kind of success I'm hoping and working to achieve. I guess I'll keep working and try not to realize that I'm waiting.

As for the horse, however, at some point basic survival instinct will kick in and he will drink just to stay alive. You know, unless he's actually an ass and not a horse at all. And I will never understand asses.