Challenges Endured

On a weekday when going to work I wake up to the “Beep, Beep” of the alarm at six-thirty am. On a day off I usually forego the alarm but still end up rising before too long.                                                                                                                            

Regardless of going to the paying job, sitting at home writing or spending time with the family, each day I know that I am going to face frustration, fatigue and uncertainty. But this is no one’s fault. 

So as I stretch myself awake and sip at my tea, staring into nothing, I try to take it in.

To prepare for the coming activity.

I try to understand.

As I take my shower and get dressed, go to work, flip on the TV and move through the motions that can be sometimes difficult but also rewarding and fun, I think about how in some ways my life has had to deal with darkness like no one else, but also in other ways, less so than many others.

I have had challenges and barriers thrown my way.

And I remember.

Others have dealt with messes as well, in their own ways.

We move on.

These thoughts help me endure. To get through; to smile; to dance; to laugh and to love. 

I get through my day and just like it is always, I look forward to the next.

I have endured.

I will endure.

Steps

It’s all about moving forward, and sometimes, (ironically) that includes moving backward.

The first time I cried from the loss of my father to the time I felt nauseated, sitting there, learning of a disability I had. I did not realize then what I know now, I was on a ladder jostling the rungs, or on a mountain trying to find my footing.

Do senseless, sad, upsetting things happen in our lives for various reasons so that we can learn from the experiences? Does tragedy and heartache really make people stronger? I’m not so certain.

But like with everything in life, there is a choice. Fall and stay there, or fall and get back up. 

Learn; hope; take steps.

Just like I chose to walk a certain path after learning about my injury.

The way that a young boy decided to push aside the pain and attempt to walk with the help of some devices.

That when faced with injury that took away words, my mom made a choice and battled with learning how to talk all over again at the age of fifty-nine.

The young girl who decided stigma was just a six letter word and that she would not be ashamed or scared of living a life with HIV. 

The way that guy born with no fingers or feet made it known that all he really needed was a heart.

 

Whether it is three steps forward and one step back, or eight steps forward a hop skip and a jump, or a turn sideways and fourteen steps ahead. Just like us, all steps to be taken are different. But one thing does remain the same, the best way to go about it, to deal with any issue, is one step at a time.

Find a friend and enlist some support.

Do it on your own.

One foot forward. 

No pressure.

Take the step.