Hey.
Please don’t mistake this report for…
…a description of one’s last moments…
…or last-minute diaries…
…or wherever your imagination might take you.
Where exactly am I reporting from?
Imagine a surgeon. What’s his or her last mile?
The intricacy of a stitch.
A complicated, entangled tissue removal.
Oneness with patient vitals vis-à-vis current surgery on open body.
Coherence in instruction to surgical team, clarity about correct surgical instrument received, hand-eye coordination during surgical movement, whatever have you.
Businessman?
Anatomy of the deal.
Profit margin calculation.
Implementation of capital expenditure.
Rapport with staff in the field.
Liaison. Thought-process culmination. Long-term vision. Legacy.
Cut to self.
With a quasi-sealed long-term portfolio with not much activity in it happening or planned, it is trading that one takes to, for distraction.
Why distraction?
One doesn’t want to be thinking of one’s long-term portfolio…
…at all.
Instead, occupation at nitty-gritty level seems to be where the wind is blowing towards.
I must report, that I have arrived at my last mile.
We’re talking straddle tent-building to ensnare price next morning, and squaring off a trade within a few seconds with the objective of taking home a profit.
Observation of price action.
Identification of anomalies.
Setting up of multiple tents operating in tandem, forming an envelope around price.
Coming to terms with emotional overhang.
Digesting market forces as they intermingle with the nervous system.
Accepting monetary loss from time to time and trying to keep it small.
Controlling one’s emotions as profit develops, trying to let it amplify.
Dealing properly with…
…the effects of…
…isolation…
…during market hours…
…and their aftermath.
Regimen. Discipline. Challenge. Growth. Alertness. Staying sharp. In tune. Alive.
At the last mile, we stare what drives us, in the face.
