It’s not the hardest things that bring you to your knees. Maybe it’s because the hardest things are just meant to be survived. We don’t sit around trying to make sense of the hardest things, we move through them and outlast them. It’s too much to escape unscathed, so that’s not an expectation. 

It’s these more menial, simple parts of my life, of a happy life, that try me. Developing a professional self; falling in love; making plans for a future self, who will always elude me, yet will always exist. These are not things to simply survive. These are the things that require agency and meaning-making. These are the things that keep you up at night. That send you to biweekly therapy. I was not taught to thrive. So much is more complex than fight or flight. 

And so I learn the cycle of things. Of happy things that make you feel joy, disappointment, confusion, anger. My primitive brain wants to judge–good, bad, poisonous. I’m learning to engage my right brain, my evolved brain. But what does your heart tell you. I learn to breathe with a rhythm, rather than for the sake of filling my lungs with air. I learn to run for the distance, rather than the speed. It is not easy, but I have always been good at the hard things. I’m re-learning what the hard things are. Changing my definition of life. It’s the made-up things that I have to face. The human assumptions I have to resist. 

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