October 21, 2010
Once upon a time, I was feeling stuck.
If my suspicions are correct, many of you reading this might feel the same way right now.
You can't get motivated.
You aren't excited about anything.
You're tired all of the time.
Lifeless. Indifferent. Apathetic.
You've stopped caring—about yourself, about your goals, about the things you used to.
You weren't always this way; at one time, you were optimistic, driven, determined, confident and generally happy with the direction your life was going.
And then it happened.
One minute you were doing pirouettes all over life's dance floor; the next, you're plopped on the sidelines, watching with bitter remorse as you witness others have the spotlight.
You know that all you have to do is hoist yourself up off of the wooden floor, strap on your ballet shoes and force yourself back onto the floor.
But you can't.
You don't know why, but you feel weighed down by something.
It's as if there's a secret ball and chain attached to your tailbone, and every time you try to get up, the force of gravity is too much for you to bear.
And so you sit on the floor.
Wondering if you'll ever get back up. Wondering if you'll ever dance like you used to. And thinking that maybe, just maybe, if someone were to give you a helping hand, you might be able to at least stand.
But no one comes to your rescue, which disheartens you even more.
You realize that it's all up to you.
You just don't know if you're up for the fight.
So you sit on the floor some more.
And maybe you cry. And maybe you get mad. And maybe you try to forget about it altogether, and just make peace with a life sitting on the floor.
Not everybody dances, you tell yourself. As a matter of fact, most people don't dance—most people sit on the floor.
This comforts you. You decide that if everyone's sitting out, then sitting out can't be that bad. It is easier, after all. You expend so much less energy. And—look on the bright side—now you'll never have blisters again, you muse.
There's just one eensy, weensy problem with sitting out the rest of your life: