Maybe it's just because it's far too late at night. Maybe it's because I've been trapped in this chair for too long. Maybe it's because bad luck keeps on rolling in.
I thought I might collapse in defeat. Non-blog related issues sent my brain packing weeks ago. I hope it is enjoying wherever it is, perhaps on a nice beach in Ecuador, watching the sun rise over the Andes.
But there's a surprise inside. As I sit here, even with my knee in constant, throbbing pain; even after leaning on my crutches, watching a friend ride Encore today and seeing that he is so unschooled, so lacking in mileage, that he desperately needs to get back in a program; even feeling like poor Sisyphus while Zeus laughs on...
I find myself narrowing my eyes in defiance.
Staring at the mountain of adversity in front of me, there is a wellspring of determination, probably fueled by sheer stubbornnes, but nonetheless picking up momentum as the flow breaks through tiny, nearly invisible cracks.
Even if you put your hand over a flashlight, beams find their way out through the spaces between your fingers and around the edges of your hand. Even if you put an entire moon over the mass of the sun, a bright corona belies the shadow and the rolling fire at the core flings its rays to the heavens in spite.
Every torturous minute of PT, every rip of pain from a step, and every mind-numbing "walk horse up the hill, walk horse down the hill" will be fueled by this fire. Because the flames are fanned by a wind I think you know. It was the wind that whipped my face as Encore stretched out in a gallop in the bright afternoon of our last ride before surgery, ripping the laugh of glee out of my mouth as I felt the enormous power of this Thoroughbred, born and bred and begging to run, leap away and carry me into an unearthly place.
I think you've been there; you don't always enter at a gallop, but you still feel that air in your heart. It's that which transforms my despair into resolve that we will not be beaten and we will not go quietly.
If you could see the entire path of your journey from the start, you might never take the first step, because the view would surely be terrifying and you might question the worth of your goal. But if your goal IS the journey, there is really nothing that can stop you.
Except yourself.
I thought I might collapse in defeat. Non-blog related issues sent my brain packing weeks ago. I hope it is enjoying wherever it is, perhaps on a nice beach in Ecuador, watching the sun rise over the Andes.
But there's a surprise inside. As I sit here, even with my knee in constant, throbbing pain; even after leaning on my crutches, watching a friend ride Encore today and seeing that he is so unschooled, so lacking in mileage, that he desperately needs to get back in a program; even feeling like poor Sisyphus while Zeus laughs on...
I find myself narrowing my eyes in defiance.
Staring at the mountain of adversity in front of me, there is a wellspring of determination, probably fueled by sheer stubbornnes, but nonetheless picking up momentum as the flow breaks through tiny, nearly invisible cracks.
Even if you put your hand over a flashlight, beams find their way out through the spaces between your fingers and around the edges of your hand. Even if you put an entire moon over the mass of the sun, a bright corona belies the shadow and the rolling fire at the core flings its rays to the heavens in spite.
Every torturous minute of PT, every rip of pain from a step, and every mind-numbing "walk horse up the hill, walk horse down the hill" will be fueled by this fire. Because the flames are fanned by a wind I think you know. It was the wind that whipped my face as Encore stretched out in a gallop in the bright afternoon of our last ride before surgery, ripping the laugh of glee out of my mouth as I felt the enormous power of this Thoroughbred, born and bred and begging to run, leap away and carry me into an unearthly place.
I think you've been there; you don't always enter at a gallop, but you still feel that air in your heart. It's that which transforms my despair into resolve that we will not be beaten and we will not go quietly.
If you could see the entire path of your journey from the start, you might never take the first step, because the view would surely be terrifying and you might question the worth of your goal. But if your goal IS the journey, there is really nothing that can stop you.
Except yourself.