Want to see the location of the target. Find Sagittarius in the summer sky. “There’s the center of our galaxy.”
“Where? I see a darkened band interrupted by irregular hazy light and pinpoints of distant light. I see the so-called Milky Way, the light of 100 billion suns, but I can’t see a target.”
“There, seemingly just behind the Archer, lies the distant dark target. If Sagittarius did have the power to fire an arrow into the shroud of dust, gases, nebulae, and stars, he would have to be very lucky to hit the unseen target, a dark spot of a black hole around which the galaxy rotates. Distance and visibility. You have to consider both. Arrows fired into a faraway darkness usually end up lost.”
“That, my friend, is the reason you practice hitting visible targets in easy reach. Something nearby and very visible. Something you can generate the force to reach. Far off targets are the stuff of fairy tales, Broadway shows, high-school counselor or commencement-speaker advice. “To dream the impossible dream” are the lyrics in Man of La Mancha and the stuff of all those uplifting speeches. But they make one a modern day Quixote aiming for a target Dulcinea he’ll never get. Aim for an intervening target, not the distant one. If I were the commencement speaker, I would argue for intermediate goals. Work your way toward the distant target a bowshot at a time. Don’t dream. Keep firing arrows, but shoot at something you can see, something within reach, and something within your power to hit.”