Every now and then life can be quite a bitch, jostling one into dark corners; hands tied and blind folded. They say in these seemingly hopeless moments one rises to the occasion and finds inner strength, helping you break the shackles of melancholy and subsequently becoming a smarter and stronger you. That is utter bullshit. We love to perceive life as some kind of tangible force that we can shape and mold to our liking and understanding. We give it a name, we give it a purpose, we give it a God just to help explain it all, to give pain an excuse.
In hopeless moments one does not need to rise to the occasion but instead, rise above it all and see the bigger picture. Quit standing four inches from the canvas with your nose pressed against the mesh, back up, take a breath and gaze at the bigger picture. You will notice how vain that small fragment of the bigger picture is in comparison to it’s entirety. We all want an inspirational quote, a motivational movie, a warm and friendly post on Instagram. We want to be told that we are good enough, we want to be certain that everything will be OK, we want happiness to be assured but there isn’t lasting strength or true wisdom gained through those mediums.
Wisdom and strength are earned through experience and the understanding of those experiences. I lost my home about four months ago. I packed my shit and was welcomed at a few different doorsteps, slept on a few different beds/couches with very little money. I felt embarrassed. I felt like a charity case and an obstacle. I couldn’t work on my music or draw. I stopped dreaming. I became a chain-smoker and started binge drinking. I became edgy and aggressive and would start fights at work or in public. I was miserable. I received words of encouragement from friends and they helped and motivated me to try to be happy. I began to meditate and feel at whole with my inner self and with life. I BECAME happy. I learned to achieve happiness. But happiness is a momentary feeling that we spend our whole lives trying to hold forever.
Time passed and happiness withered. I was miserable again. This time a new low. I didn’t know why. Then one day I suddenly tapped into something; a mindset. I had grasped an understanding. Somewhere between thought and a quiet drive, I realized that I did not give a fuck and not in a complete apathetic air but with a sense of reason. Why should I care so much? Why did I care so much? I had no answer. I soon realized that I have been molded to feel this way. All my life I have been told that I could be great, that life is not fair and that I would find my inner strength and get through issues. I realized I was not going to get through them by fighting my emotions or by holding my issues on a pedestal. I was not going to be happy by trying to fight through pain, I had to just learn to live through it. Circumstances do not hinder me from enjoying life, I do. I am not the cause of my problems but I am the cause of my pain.
I do not have a steady home and I am not where I would like to be in life and I understand that. I know life is not in my control and all I can do is live. That is all; no gimmicks, deep quotes, or consoling. My perspective and emotions have shifted. I now enjoy the simple pleasures of life, like drinking a beer, reading a book or listening to new music. I now approach my endeavors with ease and appreciation. I am able to dream again. I am not happy. I am joyous and that’s all I want to be. I am not content, but I am consistent. I do the things I love and want to do.
I still have aspirations but I now see the bigger picture; it’s beautiful and unique and I don’t quite understand it but I am glad that I am a part of it. I am slowly etching my own piece in it despite the nicks and smudges that may ensue along the way. I accept the imperfections and I know that despite them, it is still art and it is still beautiful.
The truth about falling is that you will always fall, and that is quite OK.