Courage, dear heart.
This time last week, this was what went through my headspace:
I try to avoid dealing with it so I can sleep at night. But I end up not sleeping anyway. My mind thinks and thinks and thinks, my heart sinks and sinks and sinks, the clock ticks and ticks and ticks.
I start to think that reality is insubstantial and all truth is a lie, so I make up my own truth and stick with it to comfort myself; activity is useless; security is deceit, and I might as well be living in a dream world. It’s all a vile illusion.
“Those who have a why to live for can bear almost any how.” –– Nietzche
Being in flow is that magical moment when one does an unbelievably perfect shot during a soccer game — time freezes, the stars align, and one describes it as feeling “perfect.” Flow is the state where most of us are happiest, where we love, where we feel we are in our element, where we feel challenged and as if our tasks and time are worthwhile.
Cynicism, doubt, hopelessness, anxiety. Scientifically, the only way to allow a thought to lose its hold on us is to allow it to die away by staying aware of it while not reacting to it. Observe without showering belief.
I’m sorry, my mind is a jumble, this post is a jumble, I’m such a mess.
They’re thoughts. Just thoughts.
Bad days go, bad days go.
Today I woke up a little later than usual, just as the sun was rising, just as the shadows were fading. I had a spring in my steps as I made my way to the kitchen to make nice cream. Life seems promising once more.
Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird,
That cannot fly.
― Langston Hughes