I was born drunk. It’s the only way to explain my forever faltering feet. I’ve fallen for as many steps I’ve taken in life, and from every fall, I’ve learnt to clean off the mud, the dust, or whatever other material these treacherous terrains are made of and continue walking because I was also born stubborn. Stopping is an idea I know a lot about—I’ve seen many people do it—but stopping is death, so it’s not a practicable concept for me.
Every sunrise invents its unique pack of obstacles, and it takes a wise man/woman—and I’m neither—to recognize this as the way of life and adapt to the peculiarities of everyday life.
We can only persist in existence when we accept that living is fighting. I try to think of myself as a humanoid tardigrade with the ability to survive in any environmental condition, but of course, I only mean this figuratively. I probably won’t last a second at 151°C.
Tenacity is built over time by becoming impervious to all stimuli outside ourselves. Leaving what we can’t control (the exterior world) and controlling what we must (our interiority) puts us in a place of wisdom that makes it easy to accept life as it comes and march on doggedly no matter the form of the obstacle.
AkowekoWura 