I suppose somewhere on the road to acceptance, we learn that rejection is part of the game. The same goes for the road to success. I say this because somewhere along the road to success, we understand that failure is part of the plan. Otherwise, how else do we learn? The rest of the plan is resilience, endurance and our ability to continue even when we’ve lost or fallen down. Along the way to wherever it is our destination says; we rise and we fall. We live and we learn. We love and we lose but above all, we find out that hardships are also part of the trip.

Somewhere within us all is a reservoir. This is an untapped resource and we search for this. We look to find this source of energy in other people, places or things. We look to each other; as if someone else can give us this wellspring and somehow quench our thirst or fix the broken features of our lives. And the truth is we all want to be whole. We want to be satisfied. We want to be good and more than anything, we want to be justified in the eyes of the world and of ourselves.

It is of no consequence for me or you to live as we live or do as we do. To us, this is life. This is our everyday version of normal—or at minimum; this is what we assume our “Normal” should be. We see what we see; therefore, we think what we think and believe what we believe.

It is nothing to me to see what I see on the street or to the mailman on a Saturday afternoon. It is nothing to excuse my feet on the subway while an old homeless man shuffles down the car with a cup in hand and asks for change. This is nothing for the normal everyday riders on a New York City subway system. This is more of the same and par for the course. Meanwhile, a man nods off into the depths of a drug called heroin. There is a slight aroma of urine on the train and yet, this is only an early morning ride which heads uptown.

Nobody remarks or says anything. Instead, we see this as another morning on the train. This is not different from any other day—so, why would be astonished or moved by the lonely man who is sleeping in the seat as if this were the only place for him to rest.

So you breathe . . .
You breathe because what other choices do you have? You’ve fallen (maybe?) or you’re tired or you’re hurt, but hey, life doesn’t seem to care, right? Hurt or not, we still have a race to run.

There is something I understand which I understand well. I understand the terms of loneliness. I understand the feelings of being lost or empty or worse; I understand the feeling of being absolutely nothing at all.
I say this openly and without shame or regrets. I also say this because at last, I don’t have to impress anyone anymore. And besides, this isn’t about anyone else.
I do not mind what people think about this nor do I have room to care about outside opinions. This is between us and this thing we call mental health. And I get it. Stigma is real. I know it is.
This is real to me too. I look the way I look. I talk the way I talk and act the way I act. I have this thing inside of me, which at times, this thing can be hard to live with.
It’s an idea. No, wait. It’s a thought. It’s a sense of being detached or not being included; and by the way, I have this thing even if I am included. I have this thing in me that lies and whispers. I wanted it to go away but no, it never did.

I admit it . . .
I don’t know much about what it’s like to live with a different culture. I’ve never grown up in anyone else’s home nor do I understand what it feels like to live with anyone else’s thoughts or ideas.
There are words I hear in corporate settings, which fascinate me. I find these words amazing. Truly, I do. 

I hear words like diversity. I hear about equity and inclusion. I hear about the attempts to unite and show a sense of cultural competency. I hear about this happening within the workplace and yet, something worse than the division between people is the false pretense of unity; to check off a box, to fill a quota, to say “Hey, look over here.” “Look what we’re doing?

I have met with people who declare this necessary; to practice inclusion and celebrate diversity. And yet, I have seen them celebrate this from their exclusive social clubs.
So tell me. What’s the truth? 

There’s a little race that takes place inside our heads. This is where we wonder. This is where we battle with ourselves. This is where the struggles to overcome exist more than ever. It’s here in the mind because after all, this is where we do one of two things; either we overcome or we give in.