Come Tired Feet

Come tired feet,  

You must go on.

Your children are needing 

somebody strong

There's no time to think

You must not wait. 

Do not sit around 

and leave things to fate. 

You are a champion

Battered and scarred,

For life is a battlefield

Blackened and charred. 

Pleasure may call, 

but you must not go, 

For all of her treasures

Will bite like the snow.

This journey is meant 

to be taken alone, 

But some will be sent 

To light the way home. 

Come tired feet, 

You must go on. 

This is your test, 

Will you be strong? 

Learning How to Laugh

Because life is all about balance, this post needs to happen ;)

It's true, life contains tragedy. But life also contains laughter. There is both darkness and light. Sometimes you need to cry and have an existential crisis about the state of the world and the impoverished, depraved spirit of humanity. Sometimes you need to sit and watch America's Funniest Home videos, look at cute things on Pintrest and remember that life is not altogether as serious. Find the balance!

Here are a few things that are making me smile this fall...

Learning How to Die

The title of my post is stolen from the artist Jon Foreman.

It might sound a little morbid, but I have been thinking a great deal about death, loneliness, mortality, etc. I want to die and be satisfied with my work, with the lives I have touched, with my appearance in my coffin.

But learning how to die is hard. You have to learn how to give everything up. You have to learn how to let things go, stupid little things that hold you back from giving it all away. You have to learn how to not talk to people out of your own insecurities, hoping they will somehow fill the hole. You have to learn how to stop procrastinating and just get things done, no matter how tired or imperfect or under-qualified you are. You have to give up pleasures like eating or drinking too much. You have to let all the materialism wash over you. You have to speak when you're tired, and be quiet when you're not. You can't complain about the blood and sweat that gets in your eyes. You solider on. That is life.

And when things seem so wearying, it is a comfort to know that they are supposed to be. I am supposed to die. I am not to stay here forever. The troubled waters in my soul will one day stop churning and the wheels that never seem to stop spinning will finally come to a halt. The long fight will be over, the day will draw to a close, these eyes surrounded by wrinkles will grow dim, and my lungs will exhale their final breath. I will be relieved of earth, I will be free from my body. Everything that I was, all that I stood for, will be etched into a single stone.

As I march to my final resting place, I must keep in mind that no one else is destined to accompany my soul to the grave except the one who made it. In case I forget, life is a personal journey. Loneliness does not truly exist unless I let it. I am never alone. The universe and its inhabitants watch my struggle from cradle to grave, I must simply remember them.