There are days I know I’ve given my all.
I arrive to work long before the sun comes up, and usually find myself leaving when it’s completed its journey down into the fiery blanket of the western skyline.
I thought about this tonight.
I thought about my life.
I thought about the people that you just can’t seem to please, no matter what…despite the hours you put in, heedless of the amazingness you try feed into the day, there are those who just don’t seem to feel that your efforts have merit; it seems that all they are capable of viewing is that which you didn’t do.
You know those people I’m talking about, don’t you?
Of course, my greatest archenemy is probably none other than I, the scrutinizer extraordinaire. No matter what we do, it never quite seems to be enough for us to feel good about who we are…there’s always one more thing we should have gotten accomplished before day’s end.
And so today, I hit the wall.
No, not literally, but figuratively.
It was akin to finding yourself standing in front of a brick roadblock that is far too high to climb, and too step to traverse. You sit before it, dejected, and know that you are beaten as the rain thunders down from a vortexual sky.
There’s no point in going any further; there is nothing you can do.
You feel your weakened resolve as it begins to crumble, and you succumb into apathy.
It’s then, in that quiet moment that you make the decision not to give up, you realize that it is the wall that will come down.
A brick is pushed loose and the entire peak comes crashing down in a heap of dusty rubble.
And when the dust clears, you stand, straighten your shoulders, and you keep on running.