Adversity is a funny thing. It can knock you to your knees leaving you as void as a gutted fish. It can suck you into a tunnel so deep and dark, return is near impossible.
That is how I've been living for about six years; in the vise-like grip of adversity. But regrettably, it really wasn't the weight of adversity my bones were crunching under. It was my own.
"It's not what happens to you; it's how you respond," stated my old high school best friend at a Margarita-filled get together. Fueled by the tequila and angst, I spewed embittered tales of my recent problems (although not really recent... problems. They were there all along .I just chose not to address them).
I heard her words above the din of restaurant patrons and the blaring Latin instrumentals. I heard her. But it didn't seem. . . possible. It seemed more like some great theory to test. Someday.
This is my some day.
I have worked hard facing my fears and knocking down obstacles for a few months now. The self-imposed prison gates have been swung open. Everything is lighter, brighter, even though my circumstances have changed very little. The circumstances don't matter. My choices matter. My reactions matter. The way I approach a problem matters.
In the dim of January twilight, I left the restaurant feeling a little tipsy and a little less stressed, but still committed to the notion that my life sucked. I sucked. Under the glare of July sun, I revel in the results of my hard work.
Nothings changed, yet everything has.
© It's All Wanderlust 2010
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