I found this this evening in my “unfinished thought” pile. Now may be the time to finish, I should think. I will add commentary, now that I have a bird’s eye view on this:
Life has a way of abruptly changing what we know to be true to stark falsehood. So abrupt are these changes that the aftermath leaves the previously blissful, optimistic person in a state of deflating, demoralizing, morale annihilation.
This was a point in my life about six months ago when I experienced a pain like never before. It is not that I had never experienced pain before, or even that my situation was so terrible—graven as it was. This happening was completely unexpected, and thus painful. This is reflected, here:
Yesterday was one of these occurrences for me. Not to say that everything was going perfectly, but my day was actually going really well. Any cares and worries I had were but faintly present. The coffee was that morning beautifully stark. My friends were present and seemingly content to just hang around and talk with me for a time. Comfortable, I was confident and the whole day seemed to shine like bright neon shoes. It was at this point, that life turned the tables, slowly at first, before roughly jerking them upside down, and downside up.
Haha, I still remember the weight in my stomach that seemed to drop from my throat that refused to swallow. Unguarded, I can still feel the emotion of the moment now.
Frequency and intensity of such happenings seem to differ amongst different people. Still, different people deal with life’s blows in different ways. Some sink into a state of depression comparable to that of a house fly caught in jelly. In other words, they don't, they simply take glee in what their current situation has to offer, and much like a fly caught in sugary life support, this brand of individuals blissfully finds the silver lining. These people are lucky, obviously enjoying yet another silver lining, this time concerning being born with brain defects.
Others crash and burn in the most spectacular manner, waving their arms about wildly and screaming all the way down—needless to say, some take life's strikes less well than others.
Still more of us fall in the category that's somewhere in between to first two. Faced with disaster, the word 'apathy' probably best describes this category's reaction to tough luck, a category which I seem to fall into. We from category number three tend to pull back when life manifests itself into hardship. Our paradigm encompasses the notion that hurt is the product of seeking comfort, and so when we hurt, we pull back.
For hours after the tables turned, I stumbled about my day in a sort of “zombie-like” fashion. Thoughts racing through my mind were ignored. Emotions were put aside. I completely pulled back, not only from family and who-not, but from reason and emotion. It was easier to ignore 'it' than it was to face 'it,' so I did my best to quit thinking. Ironically, as I found out, trying not to think employs a considerable amount of brainpower.
So often, within the climax of our pain, we essentially disown our lives' reasons for joy, making the situation ever graver. We forget the bliss we enjoyed just before, choosing instead to focus solely on our pain we know now. At this point, life’s blow is strengthened, having an effect on our lives that is audaciously more powerful than what life can deal without our help. Life can only push us down the road of misery so far—so often we walk down the road on our own accord.
At this point in my writing, I had stopped writing entirely, and this is where I will pick up and finish. So often, writing helps me work out the details, and reach status of a clear mind—as I write my thoughts down, the task of sorting out emotions and thoughts becomes a task that a mere mortal like me can accomplish. This case was no different, as I realized the erred reasoning that I had owned just paragraphs before. I took in my surroundings:
I was sitting in a small roadside diner, venting through verbs, nouns and antecedents while waiting for a platter of breakfast to arrive at my table. I had a window seat, and to my left my window overlooked a busy highway and an overcast sky that almost gave me a sense of belonging. To my right a small cup of coffee sat, ready for my enjoyment. It was good coffee, stark and almost “romantically”-well-brewed—It was my third cup since my arrival. I took a sip and burnt my tongue; a minor setback to my shifting mindset. I remember sighing, shaking my head.
You see, life is what we make of it. It is a story which we write page by page. Every great story has a beginning, a middle, and an end. More specifically, every good story has a high point, a low point, and an ending where circumstances rearrange themselves for the better.
Additionally, the collective power of all of life’s low-points is astoundingly weak in comparison to the power we're enabled with mindset. In a former paragraph, I remarked that optimists enjoy a silver lining of defective thinking, but I would like to pose a rhetorical question to you:
Who is more dim? The person who resolves to enjoy life even when it hurts or the one who decides to give up on life because it momentarily reeks of sadness?
I remember at this moment, God granted me peace. The realization that this moment was merely a chapter in the story of my life gave me hope and an astonishingly positive outlook to what might be in store in the next chapter…
I finished my coffee, careful not to scald myself this time--no more setbacks in this story. I left soon after and began writing the next paragraph of my life…
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