No Feeling is Final

Over the past month, I’ve cycled through every major emotion—and a few minor ones, too. Happiness, sadness, joy, anger, jealousy, grief… you name it.

Naturally, the ones that stick out most are the negative emotions. These are tied to fairly large events that have transpired in the past 30 or so days. To explain one of these events: I was on the waiting list for a particular job for months. I spoke with HR multiple times, only to be kept in the dark (HR was with me on that, too, so it’d be remiss to blame them). Last week, I was told the job was made redundant, and so, the hope I’d carefully built for that opportunity was dashed.

It was upsetting. Who wouldn’t be upset by that? But, I had to remind myself that this was just one in a sea of thousands. Still, I have a bad habit of nursing negative emotions far longer than I should (and I assume many others as well). In reality, we shouldn’t hold back on feeling them. Bottling them up will do more harm than good in the long run. Don’t ruin your life because you cannot let go. Let them cycle through you, allow yourself to feel whatever it is you’re feeling (safely), and be prepared to let it go once it’s run its course.

The great thing about emotions is that they’re temporary. Sure, they might mix and mingle and confuse us, but at the end of the day, we can lie down and awaken with a fresh slate. It might be hard for bigger events in our lives, but we will not feel that way forever. Tomorrow may turn out to be the best day of your life. And even if it isn’t, remember that no feeling is final.

Drifting in the Wired Age

A few days ago, I had a short but pleasant conversation with an old high school friend who now lives across the country. I haven’t seen this friend in many years, and it was great to hear from her and get a glimpse into her current life.

I asked if she’d kept in touch with any other people we knew from school, to which she replied with, “One or two.”

And it’s kind of weird, once you think about it.

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Own Your Space

Whoa, two posts about exercise? Weird. But while we’re on the topic, why not?

As mentioned in my previous post, I’ve started taking my exercise routine seriously. And part of this is attributed to me shrugging off the awkwardness that inevitably ensues when you’re flailing about your room, sweating buckets and panting heavily.

Rather, I had to shrug off the idea that I couldn’t comfortably exercise in my own house because other people would see me, or walk in on me, or generally be an inconvenience to me (and I to them).

I am learning how to own my own space.

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Stopping vs. Standing Still

Since about March of this year, I’ve been getting back into the habit of exercising. I like to exercise at night, not for any particular reason. I guess it makes me feel like I’m working for my bedtime.

The idea of willingly putting myself through so much torture was, at one time, unheard of. But now, I find myself looking forward to working out more and more. I still don’t entirely identify with people who work out all day every day, but I do set aside about a half-hour five days a week. And, while I don’t exercise a ton, I’m starting to understand how people can get addicted to the feeling.

Sometimes I push myself too hard and too far, resulting in many sore and strained muscles. When I feel pain – not just average “workout” discomfort, but genuine pain – I stop. I have to listen to my body and give it a rest. I don’t give up on exercising entirely, but I’ll allow myself a day or two to heal.

I find this is harder to do with other pursuits; grappling with the idea of stopping versus stopping “for now” can be a challenge. For example, when I’m trying to write something (such as this post), and I’m hit with writer’s block. There are some days where it feels like I should give up completely, but then I have to remind myself: I’m not stopping, I’m just standing still. Stopping implies an end.

It’s okay to take a break once in a while. It’s okay to breathe. There are times when stopping, full-stop, is necessary. There are other times when a pause is all you need.

Just stand still, catch your breath, and keep moving forward.

The Climb

I really, really hate high places. In fact, I’m such a wuss that I even get queasy going too high on the swings.

Once upon a time, when I was a wee child, I went on a field trip with my summer camp to a rock-climbing arena. We were all bouncing off the walls and waiting impatiently for our chance to climb. Soon, it was my turn and once I was strapped for safety, I began my ascent.

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