If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

- “If” by Rudyard Kipling

Some days you’re going to wake up and look at every single thing that has gone wrong in your life.  You’re going to remember the interview where you were too late, the deadline you missed and the email that could have possibly changed your life, but you didn’t see it until it was too late.  You’ll be sad about the lover you treated too poorly, then get even more sad about the one you treated too nicely.  You’ll agonize over the day you snapped at your kids,  the times you were too easy on them and all the times you forgot to tell our parents thank you.  Days like that, the full weight of your inadequacies press down on you until you barely have enough strength to get out of bed.  Some days, you might give into that feeling and not move.

But most days, you’re going to get the fuck up anyway.  At first, you might mostly get up because you have to pee, but you’re going to get up.  And once you’re up, you’ll remember that you’re one of 7 billion flawed motherfuckers who got out of bed despite their fuck ups.  And sure, this might be the day for your magnum opus of fuck ups.  It also might be the day that you do the best thing you’ve ever done.

That’s the point of it all:  you don’t know what life has for you.  It’s the not knowing that makes it all scary and awesome.  It’s what tests you, shapes you and helps you grow.  Yes, you’re flesh and blood and sometimes you’ll have to stay in bed.  Stay there for as long as is necessary.  Be aware of what is necessary.  The time you spend bemoaning what could have been could be time spent seizing a new opportunity and developing new strengths.  You won’t grow the fuck up until you get the fuck up.  So get the fuck up and grow.

If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

About the author

Beauty Jackson

A hip hop hippie, jambalaya goddess and red bean queen who has learned to like her wings with mumbo sauce on the side. Take time to explore life and the way I see it.