There's battles and then there's battles.
If you know what I mean, my condolences. If you don't, I hope you don't need to.
When you think of failures, you think of mistakes. Turns out regrets are powerful introspect mechanisms, which lead us to learn from them. Some days, that's enough. Others, it turns into something that makes you realise how very something isn't for you. It's crazy how small variations changes entire paths. You're doing everything right. The waves are perfect and wind is just about right. 1 dry knot and you're done though. What's that about? Who doesn't make mistakes? Good words if you're still wallowing about. Great words if you're in the introspect stages. Absolute worthless after. Only results matter!
It’s in these moments of introspection that we often find ourselves at a crossroads, faced with choosing between pretense and authenticity. When battles preceding us seem insurmountable, the decision to confront them honestly rather than shy away from acknowledgment can spell the difference between ascribing blame and taking responsibility. Embracing who we are and revealing our weaknesses follows a radical, often uncomfortable road to growth. Each colossal setback may battle-test our resilience but beneath the external pressures lies the opportunity for adaptation, creativity, and unclaimed potential. Around every corner lurks a lesson disguised and, ultimately, life is not defined merely by victories spun quickly or grandly—the smallest endurance turns moments of despair into stepping stones, redirecting our fated journeys towards extraordinary narratives unforeseen.
When we talk about battles—those intense alignments in life where choices shock us to our very planks, each setback resonates deep down, unveiling hidden aspects of our beings we sometimes conceal even from ourselves. These challenges aren't magic; rather, they offer us fragments of ourselves hushed behind curtains of fear. The question lingers: Do we choose comfort in spurious narratives constructed to mask discomfort or do we dare to confront these wandering truths despite echoes in silence lodged by our decision-altering wounds? Every scraped knee teaches antiquated wisdom cloaked in aptly enchanted disagreement; they assess narrative toward recognition. Through it all, accepting and embracing life with clarity draws comfort in disarray—not just drawing us closer to unimaginable springs hurting gracefully.
Maybe too wiseassery is the issue. Maybe it's not so complicated. Maybe it's just about today, the now, the present. In search of future, clouded by regrets of past, we're ignoring our only gift of life in the present. What a gift though. Insurmountable amounts of pain and suffering and no reason been given, but us in mirror shouting towards a shadow with no voice but only light smirks, or the absense of thereof.
Let's just hope for a better sunrise... ☀
