Good morning. It is my hope that this post finds you well—that you’re merrily surviving our planet’s latest pandemic. It’s a funny thing, isn’t it? How we operate. We live our lives as if nothing could ever happen to us, and then suddenly an enemy stands up in our path. We’re five years old again. We don’t know how to handle it. It could be a pandemic. It could be a mental block. It could be an abuser. It could be literally anything. Then we remember the one base thing that we all default to when we’re in those situations—we run to people. We run to each other.
That is the beauty of life. It was never meant to be lived alone, and yet we often think we’re somehow able to. I’m the world’s worst. I’m an introvert to the core, yet even I can find myself reaching out for friends when I don’t feel well. In my darkest hours all I wanted to do was talk about it. All I wanted to do was throw my depression into someone else’s lap. All I wanted was someone to share the load with me. And yet, even now I can feel myself shrinking back into a corner. Alone.
I don’t know why I operate the way I operate. It could be a million little things. A million little moments that led me to this one. A single interaction can sometimes shape the entirety of a life. I’ve been a lot of places. I’ve been down a lot of roads. Some alone. Some with others. I’ve experienced the mountaintop. I’ve experienced the bottom of the lowest valley. I have loved. I have hated. I have wanted. I have resisted. The fullness of my human experience has been lived. And yet…
I feel like I haven’t even gotten started.
I feel like I’m a child, sitting on a bike, waiting for a grownup to push me off.
What is it about life that it can take us through the entirety of what it has to offer yet still leave us wanting more? Maybe we’re always that five year old child wishing we had one more Christmas present to open. I don’t know.
I’ll take solace in the fact that I’m not dead. I’ll take solace in the fact that I am not ready to stop doing things. I am depressed. I am anxious. I am sad a lot of the time, but I still believe that there are things that I have left undone. I still believe that there are important moments that I have yet to live. Shimmering wisps in the forest of my life that I am constantly chasing. Maybe I’ll never fully realize what they are, or why I’m chasing them, but sometimes it’s enough to know that I’m moving—to know that I haven’t given up.
I think that’s enough for me today.