There comes a point when you have to face up to where you came from–the choices you made–the life that’s piled up around you.
There comes a point when you have to ask yourself: do you want to dig deep and dig out of the hole?
There comes a point when you hit a wall and that wall threatens to fall down on top of you. And you have to brace to hold up that damn wall.
There comes a point when the obstacles appear giant and you, a mere Gulliver, will try to run away swiftly. But they’ll surround you, and you’ll be trapped like a boot in Monopoly jail wondering if you should try to buy your way out.
There comes a point when you’ll say the pressure is too HIGH and long to release a little BUT you don’t know how valves work so you’re left boiling, steaming MAD at your situation.
There comes a point when you’ll question: was there ever any point?
There was nothing in my childhood to suggest I might someday be an endurance athlete except this: I loved biking, and my favorite place to ride was a mixed use path at Miami Whitewater Forest outside of Cincinnati. It was a long path, about 8 miles I think, and I would ride it with my mom and my sister and some of our family friends who went camping with us.
There was one day–it was the best day–when we went out early (a rare feat) and pretty much had the path to ourselves. We rounded a bend and came into this clearing. I remember it with long grasses and wildflowers and a wooden fence. (Incidentally, I pictured this spot while reading Twilight during the forest scenes when Bella gazes upon a dazzling, diamond infused Edward in the sunlight.)
In the clearing stood two deer who froze upon seeing us. It was a beautiful sight, and I remember thinking then as a child–THIS is the point. THIS is what life’s about.
I found out this week that my esthetician is moving away, and I’m sad about it because she’s the best esthetician I’ve ever had (in a twenty plus year history of brow waxing). Not only does she make my brows look good, but we also just get along really well. I’ve enjoyed talking to her and sharing our stories during our monthly twenty minute sessions over the past couple years. I’m really going to miss her and the connection we’ve had.
Which is I think another point of it all. Life’s not just about the sights (the deer in the clearing) but also the people you meet along the way (my (b)esthetician–best esthetician).
Now on to handle life.