No Excuses

When it all comes down, there’s only one thing we have to do. We have to mean it. Whatever and whichever action we choose; we have to mean every bit of it. Otherwise, why bother?
We have to mean everything we do and everything we say. When it comes down to the commitment and the plans we have or the dreams we share and when we talk about the goals we look to achieve; we have to mean it. We have to remember and understand that the depth of our commitment is going to equal the output of our success. So hold fast because the ride tends to get bumpy sometimes.

The struggle is real though. Make no mistake about this.
No one ever talks about this part. No one ever tells you about the strain after the long hours and the sleeplessness that comes with the second-guessing insecurities and the thoughts that permeate the night. And you lay and you wonder; you think and you toss and turn.
No one talks about the sad quietness of rejective thinking and the monkey-like demons that bounce and lurk in the ideas of failure — and they laugh and they bully; they torment the soul and they whisper louder than screams so that every part of your dreams, —and even the hopeful childish ones, the pure and the innocent, and the honest whole hearted desires are shaken and worried.
No one talks about the beaten feeling of surrendering back to the drawing board — or going back to the basics to recreate the plans, which you’ve drawn out a thousand times; only to wonder, which part needs to change.

And you start to question yourself.
You question everything.
Is it me?
Is it my fault?

And then you look around and you see it. Someone comes out with a story about their life. Or you read something, which is similar to what happened to me this morning. I logged on to a virtual world of connections that hardly seem real.
There it was, an icon above the search window. The story was about Terry Fox, a man that made an attempt to run clear across Canada, from east to west, and he would do this with only one leg. He was diagnosed with bone cancer and lost most of his right leg. He ran 26 miles each day on one leg. 

He ran 3,339 miles.
The cancer spread.
He couldn’t finish.
But that doesn’t mean he would have ever given up.
Terry Fox passed one month before his birthday on June 28, 1980.

Some could say that he never made it. Some might say that he made more than he ever planned because here I am now, someone Terry Fox never met or heard about, and here I am reporting to you about a man that gave all he had until the day he died.
Here I am, a man that is a stranger to the family, yet, I have tears in my eyes because something like this can never die. This is too powerful.

The spirit is what wins. This is the drive. This is the force. This is the thing inside of each and every one  of us, and yet, here we are with all of our limbs and abilities, complaining and explaining, or coming up with excuses as to why we fail to compete. 

The trouble is the mental games we play with ourselves. The trouble is the thought machine and how this sways us from our deepest source of desire.
I want to build and be.
I want to create and draw and think, dance and sing. I want to find myself at the finish line, win or lose, and when I look back —I want to be proud enough to smile and feel as if I gave this trip everything I had. No excuses.

No matter where I go or what I see; no matter what happens to me and no matter how many bumps and bruises and of course, no matter how many times my heart breaks or my will might weaken, nothing and no one can ever tempt me or take me away.

I just have to mean it. 

There are times, and I’m sure I’m not alone when I say this; however, there are times when I am by myself. I am tired and my bones hurt. My will is weak. My hope is diminished by the times and my surroundings.
My thoughts are spinning and life is moving at me from every direction. There are times when I wonder if I can keep moving. I wonder if my secret of endurance is enough to help me endure. And I wonder if I can take it.
I wonder how many more doors I’ll have to knock on and how many more trips I’ll have to take, both to and from. There are times when I find myself discouraged. And I think about scrapping my notes. I think about tossing my files in the garbage. I think about all the promises and the handshakes which turned out to be as useless as a rubber check. I think about the ideas and the thoughts and feelings that suggest, maybe, I might not reach my goal.

Then I wonder what Terry Fox would think. He ran over 3,000 miles with one leg to raise 1 million dollars for cancer research. Not even cancer and death was able to stop Terry Fox, so what’s my excuse?

The truth is:
There is none.
When it all comes down to it; whatever we choose to do, we just have to mean it.

Big brother Terry Fox: Darrell reflects on 40-year legacy – Victoria News

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