Mental Health · Personal Development

Dopamine

"The journey is the reward" © Nishanth Jois, 2012. CC BY 2.0.
The journey is the reward” © Nishanth Jois, 2012. CC BY 2.0.
Faith. It’s all going to come down to faith, isn’t it? Establishing belief that if I work hard on the things that matter I will see improvement.

Noticeable difference.

Faith. Even when it seems like I know better, I don’t. Forgetting every time I felt like I gave my all and got burned anyway. It doesn’t have to be that way.

I am not finite. There is no “all”. No matter how empty, how hopeless, how beaten down I feel. I can always get up again. There is always something I haven’t used yet.

It’s easy to feel I’ve been doing everything I can my entire life. Easy to assume that if any of it were going to make a difference it would have by now. Harder to learn to see the difference between fighting and learning. It’s never been about how hard I can punch, only how quick I can dodge it.

Divert. Disperse. Learn a different tactic.

Don’t try to stop the river. Rivers always find a way. At some point, the dam breaks, and you’re worse off than you were in the beginning. You must be gentle. Coax it. Day by day.

We don’t need elaborate gestures. Don’t need fireworks that draw our eyes up, then fade out into nothing. We need constant pressure. And I know that’s harder.

Harder because there are no grand ceremonies. No celebrations or finish lines. We just trudge forward and hope we’re doing better than we were.

Faith. Understanding that growth, that improvement, has always been gradual and near invisible. Only observable by looking back. By remembering where we were a month, a year, a decade ago.

This is not a fight. It is a slow and steady climb. And yes, it’s easy to feel like Sisyphus. But the boulder isn’t rolling down. We never go all the way back to the bottom again.

All the work is always counting. We will continue to push our limits and surprise ourselves. It’s okay to take a moment and throw some confetti.

Autobiography · Poetry

Explode

Light explosion” © Theophilos Papadopoulos, 2012. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

The breakdown was more
brutal than it usually is.

All screams and punches and sobbing.
A car crash disguised as a human being.

Weeks of sliding in.
Forty-five minutes of destruction.

Then I dressed and put my make up on.
Walked to work blasting rap music.

Just like that, a switch flipped.
Anger and frustration turned cool and purposeful.

I wonder if that’s how it feels
to be born.

Violently thrust into a new world
you’re not sure you’re ready for.

You can’t go back.
Jump in.