I can tell you that there’s nothing like a breath of fresh air.
There’s nothing like being able to breathe when the air was nothing else but stagnant and thick, and somehow, or perhaps finally, a gust of wind blows passed your face and lifts your hair back.
And then it’s like, ah . . .
(Understand?)
There is nothing quite like the feeling of personal liberation or, to be clear, there is nothing like finding the time to set yourself free, as if to mean, there’s nothing like that first leap when willingness overtakes fear. There’s nothing as incredible as when determination outweighs the doubts in your head, and next, you just move.
There’s nothing like the moment when the ideas of movement no longer teeter between the lines of bravery or being afraid.
More to the point, and I swear that I can say this with experience, there is nothing like the moment when determination reaches an optimal level.
You’re ready to turn the key and start the engine.
Next, you find yourself in an almost fluid-like movement, as if to just move—no thinking, no worrying, no over-analyzing, and suddenly all of the practicing, all of the speeches you told the mirror and all of your solo rehearsals, and all the times when you swore that you would “make a move,” but you lost the nerve. So, you paused in the utter sadness of complacency.
But that was then.
Somehow, you made a move without thinking and just like that, you’re free.
Liberated, like a prisoner of your own personal and interpersonal wars.
In all reality, this is what happens when we pardon ourselves. This is when the warden within commutes our sentence, free, and the time served is the time served, as if to mean that we will never have to be a prisoner again for as long as we live.
However, there are those who become comfortable in prison.
There are those who fall in love with their confinement, or so they say.
But that’s not me. Or maybe it was and so, for the rest of my life, my job is to make sure this will never be me again.
There is no other victory like this, to prove that you can do something, especially when you never believed you could.
There is no victory like that leap of faith we take, and then our body moves, as if it knew what to do all along. However, as we look back with a sentiment of surprise and amazement, we realize that our body was always capable.
This means that “we” were always capable.
It was our mind. That was the trick.
We needed to find a replacement or an alternating distraction that essentially removed our focus from the chaos in our mind.
Stop imagining your failures . . .
Start seeing your successes.
That’s the way to go.
I suppose no one really thinks about how tough and amazing that first step can be.
No one talks about the freedom that comes when you finally make a move or when you find what it takes to stand up for yourself.
I swear, this is amazing.
To go or move or to stand by yourself, and to act instead of think or delay with your bullshit excuses.
I can say the beginning is intimidating.
Then again, the beginning is always intimidating.
I can say that as we realize our ability, or when we move and surprise ourselves and we act instead of talk, and when we achieve, then we put space between where we were as opposed to where we’ve always wanted to be.
See that?
We are closer to the sights of heaven than we think.
I know that I am not where I want to be.
However, I also know that I am closer to my dreams now that I decided to move.
I’ll keep moving too, regardless of who says I will or won’t make it.
I know about my intimidations. I know what scares me or how my thoughts can betray me or turn against me. I know how I can find myself in an emotional tailspin.
I’ve done this for decades.
But not anymore.
I know what happened when I spiraled out of control.
I also know what happened when I quit before I even tried.
I never considered the rush or the thrill of moving. I never realized that I could be my own hero or that I could save my own life.
No.
But this is what happens when we live with a doubtful mindset.
This is why we settle for less because deep down, we have no faith and no belief that we can “make it” or succeed, or that our dreams could ever come true. Hence, we settle for a tired, unwanted existence because the devils we know are at least the devils we know—and so, complacency becomes the language of our demons. Hence, the translation is never anything else but sad—or unfortunate.
There will always be a reason to stay, or be stuck, or play it safe—and some of those reasons can be good ones.
I am not discounting the fact that we need to be careful. However, there are no guarantees.
Life is still moving. Safety does not always encounter victories that go beyond compare.
Sometimes, you have to risk it all.
And remember, it’s later than you think. This moment, as in the “right here and right now” is far more valuable than we realize.
This means that we can either take advantage, seize the day, and make a move, or we can settle into our excuses. We can do something or do nothing and hide from our dreams while living in rationalizations and bullshit.
We can remind ourselves of everything that could and should possibly go wrong, just so we can justify why we never took a shot, or why we never dared to try.
Or worse, we can hide ourselves and play pretend or blind ourselves from the truth by closing our eyes and missing out on the thrill of what life should really look like.
Some people never take a shot.
I don’t envy them.
Then again, I know what it’s like to live in fear. I know all about doubt too.
I’ve levied this from my own perspective, which is why I’m here at the starting point now, and do you know what?
Fuck it . . . I know I might fall, but I’d rather fall and be hurt because I tried to live than suffer in some kind of stagnant, or loveless life.
I’d rather try and fight and scream to live than be quiet and never live at all.
Go to hell, Devil.
I have listened to you and your demons for way too long.
Besides, I have my own heaven to create.
I have my own life to save.
I have my own hopes and my own dreams to fulfill.
I have my own love to celebrate and to share.
So . . .
Good morning, Mr. Future.
I’d like to dance for a while
(if you don’t mind).
I might not have my rhythm down yet,
but hey, at least I’m here
(to give it a try).
The Written Addiction 