Just-paddle-out

This terrifies me so I have to do it

STRONGER

I don’t have any answers.

I don’t even like what I’m writing.

It’s not good enough. It’s not eloquent. It’s not profound.But, it’s all I have, so I’m going to put it on paper, because then I can sleep tonight.

—

I just watched the movie “stronger” (the one with Jake gylenhall playing the man who lost his legs in the Boston bombings).

 It was hard to watch.

 It didn’t always look bright. It wasn’t always easy to find hope. 

It was real. 

But it was definitely worth watching

Because it showed the power of pain.

 It can be transmuted.

For example, this week (in a radically radically radically less severe and daunting way), my feet have been pretty bad.

This brought some feelings to the surface and I ended up feeling like things just kept getting fucked up, the whole “why is it always me” thing. 

I did that for a while (don’t really recommend)

But then I realized,

for every single thing in my body and my life that goes wrong, a thousand other things are going right. 

My feet hurt, my Brad Pitt summer bod is very late to the party, and my dopamine receptors like to take extended vacations. 

And honestly sometimes it all really really sucks.

But…

My eyes work. 

My hands can play guitar and type and paddle and turn the pages of a book. 

My feet DO work better than they used to. I can walk to the water from my car. 

I can PISS STANDING UP (which is honestly such an enormous gift, trust me).

MY EARS can listen to “afterlife” by arcade fire.

My fingers can lift the needle and put it on a record (that I purchased with money from a job that I was graciously given after I came back from the hospital).

My lungs work. I can sit out back and just fucking breathe. This is such a monumentally beautiful thing. 

I can kiss my little kitty on his head.

I can kiss the girl I love.

I can taste my fresh coffee in the morning and I can feel the warmth in my cup.

I can hold my moms hand when things are hard.

I can tackle my brother when things get heavy.

I can dive into the ocean when everything is to much

I can put my pen on paper and pour everything out

I am a human. (And I am assuming you are as well)

And with being human, comes a lot of really rough stuff

But it also comes with a lot of good. 

It means that we can be strong together. 

It means that you can make it through today.

It means that I can make it through today.

It means that we are finite. 

We will live, and we will die. And during the in between, we are stronger than the pain, the fear, the anger, and the confusion.

Today, and every other day we have, 

We are stronger

 (even when it doesn’t feel like it)