D. H. Lawrence once said, “It is very much easier to shatter prison-bars than to open undiscovered doors to life.” (The Virgin and the Gypsy). When I read that in High School, I remember intense relief washing over me that I wasn’t the only one. The only one who just didn’t know what they wanted.
Now that I do, I can see why that season of uncertainty was so dark but so necessary. Living in that transition of childhood to adulthood, wondering who I would be and what I would pursue made me go into action. It made me desperate enough to try new things, make time for friends, and appreciate what I got in return for my efforts. As human beings, we often don’t know what we truly desire and that is why the journey is more important than the destination. Maybe you think you want to be a famous boxer but, like me, discover along the way you really just wanted respect.
I have found stories as the easiest way to reveal the true desires of our hearts. Stories allow us to live a life without a price tag. We become warriors, dancers, adventurers, and everything else without needing to form the six-pack, or discipline our way into coordination. When we are free of responsibility, we let ourselves dream of what we truly want and, oftentimes, we crave what we were meant to do. The key is awaking that craving, the “…opening undiscovered doors to life.”
Now that I do, I can see why that season of uncertainty was so dark but so necessary. Living in that transition of childhood to adulthood, wondering who I would be and what I would pursue made me go into action. It made me desperate enough to try new things, make time for friends, and appreciate what I got in return for my efforts. As human beings, we often don’t know what we truly desire and that is why the journey is more important than the destination. Maybe you think you want to be a famous boxer but, like me, discover along the way you really just wanted respect.
The mountains will rise in your head long before you encounter them on your road.
As an all-or-nothing type of girl, I struggle with this. Frankly, I’ve given up on more than one early morning run, even pouting and whining, because I wasn’t as fast as I wanted to be. The night before my morning run, I would toss and turn with anxiety and dread. I didn’t want to run, but, worse than this, I feared failure. What if I didn’t run, then spent the rest of my day feeling like a bum? Frustrated, I had nothing left to do but show up for my early morning torture.
“If you can’t fly then run, if you can’t run then walk, if you can’t walk then crawl, but whatever you do, you have to keep moving forward.” – MLK.
Then one day, I realized I was setting myself up for failure. Although running is a requirement for boxing, I could have chosen to pursue another form of building endurance or even give-up boxing. But it was about more than having good endurance. I believed that to give up on what I loved- boxing- simply because I would not discipline myself to do something I hated – running- would disqualify me from all the finer, richer things in life. I had the dream, but now I had to decide to pay the price. I started disciplining my mouth and attitude by saying things like, “God, thank you that I get to run,” or, sometimes, “God, thank you that the rest of my day is easy, because I conquer the hardest part in the morning.” Whatever mind tricks I could glean from the bible, podcasts, or my imagination, I clung to like a life preserver.
Pretty soon, I began to float.
I’ll never forget when it started. Peace and joy started to fill me on the runs. I learned to think and imagine like I did as a child. The silence of the road drove me to process emotions I’d buried, dream dreams I’d forgotten, and pray for people I cared about. I guarded my running time by listening either to nothing, worship music, or a sermon/podcast. Uplifting things. I got fresh ideas for my writing, I learned to let things and people go that I had held too tightly, and I got closer to the Voice of God.
Running will probably never be easy for me, but it has certainly gotten easier, and I finally got as fast as I wanted to be. It was the mountain, the temptation to give up, that taught me to battle anxiety and discipline my words and attitude. In the long game, I think the mountain meant more.
- A. Faith.
