When one watches a babies first steps on weak little legs, the fall, the struggle, the natural urge to continue using their bodies in ways they never have before, the internal-cowardice of some adults seem confusing. To naturally seek destructive comforts and stagnation, seems a degradation of humanity. Even though those "stuck" in these places are never happy, it seems as though they lost the hope that they can push the imposed :"laws" they place on their lives in order to find happiness.
I fear contentment, even as I feel stuck. Its common enough this day and age. I don't know which walls to push, which doors to open to seek that fulfillment of the empty cavity I seem to have within me. I keep trying, but I tire. The older I get the more the doors on my choices seem to close on me, and that helpless rage growls in the back of my heart. It is easy for me to give in, to "rest" in the comfort of monotony, but it is unnatural, and always leads to another day of that familiar emptiness.
I must remind myself to "push" like the smallest toddler. It is humbling. But sometimes I am granted short boosts of youthful energy for the effort, and I feel that joy of pursuing a new adventure. Even if it only lasts a moment.
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