Throughout my life, I’ve always identified a major hurdle that was standing in the way of being truly happy. I believed that once I finally got passed that one thing I could really start life the way I wanted. But the silly thing is I forgot that I had more hurdles. Actually I had a shitload of hurdles behind me that I never seemed to remember overcoming.
It didn’t matter what the hurdle was or what part of life. Love, work, social, personal, fitness, studies, location, money its all the same. In every circumstance and situation, I essentially created an obstacle out of something because I was projecting my own insecurities and vices to my external environment. Not to be confused with the external dictating the internal.
Like when i thought going to NZ would magically make me not depressed as fuck. It’s easy to believe that a change in circumstances will erase your vices. But that’s not true as life has fucking taught both you and I many times. Life doesn’t start after the hurdle, it the entire fucking track you’re on. Life is the hurdles, and the track. It’s the reason we run the race.
Getting knocked down isn’t just important. It’s literally ingrained into the fabric of our human existence. There’s no reward if there’s no struggle. It’s the yin and yang of all things. Fucking life and death, joy and sorrow, light and darkness. You can’t have one without the other.
It doesn’t matter what your hurdles are or how many you can get past. It’s about loving to run the race, to be a part of experience. To feel highs and low, to suck the marrow out of life. That’s the fucking reason we keep running. Because running the race is the point.