Lost Myself

Monday, November 16

Today is my final day of leave.

Tomorrow I begin easing back into the working world.   It’s a strange thing to recognize that you’re addicted to something that’s good for you.  But it’s not entirely uncommon.

You can drink too much water.  You can over-exercise, over-moisturize, and over diet-tize.

Work is more than necessary.  It’s good.  Provides a sense of accomplishment.  Nurtures the ones you love, and offers the chance to be of service to something greater than yourself at least (and hopefully only) five-days a week.

But abuse that adrenaline rush that comes with surpassing your goal, earning another raise, or being known as the one who always says, “yes,” and you’re likely (eventually) only to cause more damage.

At least, that’s what I did.

But now, by learning how to stop to start, I’ve gained some tools:

I no longer devour 4-6 cups of coffee a day – and so, I sleep when I’m tired.

I’ve discovered yoga and for more than a month now haven’t missed a morning class (in my sacred living room).

I write.  Not for work.  Not even for you (dear, beloved, cherished reader). But for me.  For my Creativity.  My Connection.  My Sanity.

I write, I do yoga, I sleep…and now…I ask for help.

It’s an entirely new approach and I feel much more secure preparing for work now, than I ever have before – but that doesn’t mean I’m not nervous.  A bit anxious.  A little scared.

Of course, this could all still not work out.  But, the difference is now I believe however it goes is exactly how it’s supposed to go, and regardless of how that goes, goes, I’ll be okay.

So, maybe it’s this new approach that’s got me crying as I listen to Eminem on the way to therapy this morning.

I’ve heard Eminem’s “Loose Yourself,” countless times before, but when he spits out:

Success is my only mother fucking option; failure’s not.

I hear it for the first time.

Of course success is my only option – because failure doesn’t exist.

All we have are results.  The ones we love, the ones we regret, and the ones we don’t even bother to notice.  But, what they all have in common (what each of my lovely and pathetic results have in common), is that they can all (always) be changed.

You just gotta lose yourself.



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