just enough

All my life i have feared failing to reach my full potential; this is not the first time i'm writing about it, in fact i feel like i've thought, spoken with different friends at different times and especially wrote about it so many times that its in danger now of repeating without meaning, repeating like an overplayed, broken record i can no longer make any sense of.

Perhaps because i am a dreamer, it seems i have always seen my life in chunks - this is my life, this is my failure, this is my mistake, this is my future. And without realizing it, i've seen every success or every blot of my life as a lifetime's effect. Because i am careless of anything good and destructive about my errors, it sometimes feels like my life is perpetuating one big mess, a non-stop entropy.

Some mornings, like today, when the world is a particular shade of sunlight, i think - i have to stop this spiral. i have to learn to be happy again, like the jewels found of children. i think - nothing else means anything, but this life well-lived, happy, right. (and again, 'right'? all my life i've punished myself about being 'right', without knowing what it really meant...but then again this is my un-childlike self speaking).

Maybe this is my perpetual grief -- that i always suffer all the sorrows of my whole lifetime in one dark moment. Two months ago i was crying for the actual grief i knew would come today. Now i'm crying for the unbearable grief of the moment, but also everything else that could go wrong in the next five, ten years. the grief i IMAGINE i will feel about this for the next five, ten years. everything is finished, my future tomorrows are finished, i have already failed. Plus the grief of all my past misgivings, and the fear of the spiral, and the spiral, and the spiral.

No wonder i feel crippled in those moments, breathless - it is the end of the tunnel.

But every night there is doom,

and every morning there is new light.

And it is not the first time that i am thinking, too, - my, this is why God made days , divided time into light and dark. because he knew we would have to cope, and because he knew we need cycles of hope. he knew we would have to take one day at a time, one step in front of the other. and not to worry about tomorrow's sorrows for each day will have enough to worry on its own.

Every night there's doom, but everyday i still do the little, little things it takes to get through the day. It is enough. in a similar phase four years ago, i remember looking at my feet landing on the road as i walked in heaviness. at the heaviness of that moment, i could not look around me to see anything else. i stared at my feet, going one in front of the other, and nothing else existed. And i realised, this is enough.

This is enough for today.