Most mornings, as you may know, I journal per my little template that I created. Ahead of grabbing my pen, I do my morning reading, which is a book-surfing through a small stack of spiritual tomes. These range from Christian to New Age and all seem to connect, to each other, and to me, and set a lovely tone for my day.
This morning, eager to be back in this positive routine after a wretched fatigue yesterday, I came upon a passage that referenced my “life force,” and it gave me a powerful pause.
Yes, of course I knew I have a life force, but to see the words in print was a wow-ing reminder. I have a life force!
I was immediately conscious that the life within my body–the mere alive-ness of me–is uncompromising. It’s fully and perpetually there. I am alive.
My daily self-check-ins and expressions to others, even the teachings through which I make a living, constantly contain sliding scales and degrees of this or that. To the point where I invented a scale and published two (so far!) books about it!!
How much pain? How much fatigue? How much sadness? How hungry am I? How excited am I to do that thing? How well can I work on my novel today? How much do I feel up to playing?
These ranges are constantly changing, day to day, moment to moment, and always on my mind, and always in control of how I live, experience, feel about life. And there are zero absolutes in any of them.
Except when I stopped and thought, “life force,” I had a beautiful reprieve. Because my being alive is no sliding scale. It’s no better or worse. It’s simply, peacefully, “yes or no,” and as long as I’m breathing, it’s a resounding “yes.”
I felt in that moment that I could accomplish anything in the world, because at my core, driving this imperfect vessel of flesh and feeling, is simply yes. Yes I can? My yes can.
When your maybes and ifs and ranges and pain and sadness are sliding around in their crueler places, try to think of that one steady positive at your core.
Dig in under the layers of grays and scales, find your truly constant yes, and hold on to it.
Maybe it’ll get something done for you on a difficult day.
Or it can just be there to be one little big thing that holds on to you, in return.