It’s easy to let the little things get the best of you. I know that every time I burn a grilled cheese, a small part of me dies inside. Which is every time, actually. But I don’t really die inside; rather I just learned to love charred bread. Mhmmmm! See how easy that was?
Beyond the magical undertaking of perfecting a grilled cheese, we tend to get wrapped up in all of the here-and-now details of daily life. We become hypersensitive to events as they occur by the hour, letting them affect our mood, our perception and our outlook on things. And sometimes, it does feel like everything is happening at once, and the whole world is collapsing on your head and–dammit–you never even got to go to France and here the world is, collapsing on your face, silently mocking you with every minor setback. How dare it! Such an inconsiderate bitch.
The good news is that France isn’t all that great, anyway.
But the bad news, my friends, is that when you’re in the process of putting yourself out there in the world, starting a business or trying not to live a miserable life like everyone else, the little things that go wrong multiply 10-fold. The uncertainty of it all is to blame, and when you don’t know exactly what’s going to happen next, and you’re attempting to forge a path where there wasn’t one before, life inevitably becomes a little bit more complicated. And with those complications, comes frustrations. And more than ever you want to lather yourself with butter and heave yourself over the edge of the Grand Canyon. (What? That isn’t how you imagine plunging to your death?)
So, entrepreneurship can be tricky. The issue is further compacted when you’ve got all of these details to deal with, and on top of it you don’t get any support from anyone, since no one actually believes you can do it and they all think you’re off your rocker. Pshh–practical people.
But, if there’s one thing that’s kept me going through challenging times, it wasn’t cheesy motivational quotes, hugs from Mormons or even excessive amounts of liquid courage.
What do I do when I get down?
(Besides find a cute boy to flirt with.)
I think of the stories.
When I’m 72.489 years old, I want to have stories. I want to have stories, and I want to have stories that are worth telling.
I want to be able to think back on my lifetime, and think to myself, “I can’t believe I survived that shit.” Because to me, that means that I actually got out there and I pushed myself. I pushed myself past comfort zones, over lines, and into places that only those who dare to go, can be found. I want to live fully, and with intention, without regret, and with far too many memories for even the biggest of scrapbooks.
I want excitement.
I want to be exhilarated.
I want to feel every range of emotion.
I want to understand others.
I want to see their lands.
I want to share myself with the world.
I want to feel alive.
I want the wind in my hair.
And nothing more but the knowledge that no matter what goes wrong, I know I will have lived.
And at the end of the day?