Inspired by this post, by Danielle LaPorte.
I get tempted sometimes to blog about recovery, about all the bad stuff, the past, the things I’ve been carrying around, or the things I’ve dropped.
I haven’t wanted to blog or write in a long time about my personal life. I think I know why.
It’s because it’s changing so much, the old subjects aren’t worth writing about anymore, and the new ones haven’t settled in yet.
I’m not sure if people want to hear how excited I get about fitness, trying out some new plan, or going swimming, or experimenting with Amnar. I’m not sure how to form the words yet, where to put them.
I’m still finding my way into a new place.
I had a comment a little while back on another blog from somebody saying they felt the depression, the anxiety, never ends, that change isn’t possible.
I know what that feels like. It seems so huge that you can’t get out. And that it’s endless.
That’s the time when it’s hardest to think anything will change at all, and you feel useless and hopeless.
But it’s not impossible. I used to think, if I just go out, or if I just check the post, or if I just do one thing, that’s all that really matters. Or even just get out of bed. That’s enough.
It’s about the tiny little steps.
It’s also about reminding yourself that what’s in your head isn’t necessarily real. You don’t have to believe it. But it’s OK if for now, you totally do.
Keep pushing just a little bit. Yes, it can be a hard slog. It means looking at things that hurt a great deal, accepting deep wounds.
Eventually, you realise they can heal, and they make you stronger.
I keep thinking to myself, “I don’t want to be like this.” Today, I realised the only way out was to accept I’m like this, that my life is like this, and move on from that.
So I start doing a few more little things. Cope a little better. See where today’s change comes from.
It doesn’t happen if you sit around waiting for it, or endlessly complaining that you want it but it hasn’t happened. You have to take the steps yourself, no matter what the obstacles are.
They’re smaller than they seem.
(Sometimes, they’re imaginary.)
You can believe it’s totally impossible to have a better life, and work toward it anyway. Odd, that.
Change happens in a thousand tiny little steps, not one momentous leap. After all, we’re not talking about climbing the north face of the Eiger here.
But even that’s not impossible. They ski down it these days.
One thing at a time, even if it’s a tiny thing, is worth doing. And just because it doesn’t look major, doesn’t mean it isn’t. We’re not prone to be objective about our own sense of who we are, anyway.
That’s how I do it, anyway.