Do Tears Stain Your Progress?
What is the cost to transform your life, and do you still believe it’s worth the challenges?
I don’t need to feel the tears roll down my cheeks or look in a mirror to see if they are there. Their weight has permanently dug trenches down my face and off my chin, or so it feels.
I’ve become accustomed to accomplishing one thing in a life plan or project followed by 100 I couldn’t do. I lose so much time attempting tasks beyond my graspable knowledge, or it takes me months longer to even understand my next step. I am following the thought that I will learn from my failures, but what if there are so many failures I can’t remember even what lesson I am on.
Often I seek out celebrating the most mundane activities because that’s all I can accomplish today. That’s when the doubting, negative voices try to creep back in. Questioning my worth again or taunting me for thinking I’m capable of more than this and asking if I’ve really come that far.
I am actively repeating to myself, “I’m trying. I’m trying. I’m still trying. Keep trying.”
I’m so tired of trying today. So tired my tears can anchor me straight down to the floor.
There I lie.
I have no urge to move, feel, think, or decide anything.
I had to stop and just be.
My one task at that moment was only to exist.
I cupped my hands over my face and felt its wet stream of tears. I was crying for the pleasures and blessings of living life in its entirety. I could see my life shifting slowly. I imagined a direction where the mundane multiplied my joys, challenges added color to my vision, and sacrifices transformed into unexpected gifts.
When I have tasted vibrant, soulful living, I will keep trying to live in those moments. I want to create an environment for them to be planted and grow. Emotional tool brushes stroke soft, fluid lines, repeatedly tracing a smile on my face.
Let my tears come and rush over every inch of me as a link to nourishment showing the value in my path and purpose.
I’ve come to terms with knowing I need help. I need people who care. I can do more than I realized I was capable of at times, but I know there are things beyond my understanding, and I need to reach out for expertise, advice, and guidance.
It’s okay to celebrate making a delicious latte at home, unloading the dishwasher, checking my emails, reading a devotion, or talking to a friend. I don’t need to finish a massive list of duties, attack every task for the month, or always stay ahead of the mental questions.
Celebrate you today. Celebrate you tomorrow.
Your tears have a history and give meaning to your story. No need to erase them or leave them behind.
Allow them space to share the trail with the joyful ones, too.
Thank you for reading. I’ll keep trying and hope you do, too.
If you enjoy reading stories like these and want to support me as a writer, consider signing up to become a Medium member. It’s only $5 a month, giving you unlimited access to all stories on Medium without ads. If you sign up using my link, I’ll earn a small commission.