Each and every morning, I have a little fight with myself.
My alarm sounds. My eyes open. And my mind is overrun with chatter:
I think I’ll have cake for breakfast. Why don’t I just check my email in bed? I’m dreading that 3pm phone call. Maybe I should call in sick to that meeting.
Except my mind doesn’t have to pause for breath, so it’s more like:
And I – who went to bed inflated with ambitions, intentions, plans for the next day – am flattened back in my sheets.
Call it the reptilian brain. Call it fear. Doubt. Worryintimidationsettlingdespondencydiscouragementgloomterrorpessimisminertia.
It could be all of the above. But I’ll call it resistance. And my resistance is always within reach. Sometimes it’s the easiest thing to reach.
Because there are so many, many things to resist: humiliation, uncertainty, heartbreak, sadness, loss, the risk inherent in any day of any week.
And resistance, bless its heart, wants to protect us from it all. But a protected life is not a full life.
I know of only one antidote to this resistance:
Get out of bed. And go show up to life. The very life that will break our hearts and humiliate us and throw uncertainty, loss, sadness at us.
Because that’s not all our lives have. And resistance is not all we have.
It’s a little courageous act. To show up to life unprotected.
And each time we do it – in the morning or the afternoon or late, late in the evening – we re-find our mettle, our kindness, our fight, our full measure. We re-find the things that are not always easy to reach.
We may have to do it each and every morning. We may resent it, despise it. A full life isn’t an easy life.
But here’s to showing up. And little courageous acts.