Until the Wheels Come Off

Inside for a month, neck screaming regardless, went out anyway.

Stillness feels like death when motion feels impossible.

Day one, yet again, maybe.

We're built to move toward comfort and away from discomfort.

Biology, habit, whatever you want to call it.

The machinery runs in the background, it doesn't consult or ask for permission.

No safe or comfortable options in this moment, perhaps ever, and so I go.

Not for defiance or proof, just my own thing to negotiate, at the edge of collapse.

Doing something completely unreasonable by any measure of protecting tomorrow's capacity.

Then there's a moment out there, while standing somewhere beautiful...

Simultaneously and unfiltered.

Pain, gratitude, joy. Aliveness, grief, and everything at once.

Every choice has costs. We all pay in one currency or another.

Worth every penny.

If you've ever gone anyway, knowing exactly what it would cost...

You already know there wasn't a comfortable option either way.

→ Share this with someone who pays for the things worth doing, and does them anyway.

Trail Crossings & Waypoints:

→ Oh, the Water
→ The Urban Pivot

Connective Tissue:

→ Survival Settings
→ Don't Get to Keep Good Things

Outlooks & Vantages:

→ Bloom Magic
→ In Motion

More on the way → Subscribe free for new posts delivered by email.

← Back to Field Notes

* peer reflections: not medical or therapy advice. *