The death of inspiration comes from attaining contentment.
I have spent much of my life barreling forward to each dream, rarely taking a moment to enjoy the spoils of each new barrier I have broken through, because I needed to reach the next goal. Some of these dreams could very well be considered small, maybe even insignificant to anyone else. Others are feats that most people could not even comprehend why I wanted to do them, and to what purpose such achievements were worth attempting at all. But each dream was mine, and I needed to complete them.
Through much prodding by those around me that care deeply, I have begun to take stock of my life and what achievements I have gained, and to find happiness in what has been achieved—instead of what I still had left to rise towards.
I remember a day when I was in my late teens. The day had a noticeable chill, but it was not cold because it happened to be one of those rare days in winter that rose above the usual temperature. Had it been 50 degrees in the late Spring, people would have complained greatly, but it was 50 degrees in early March… such weather begs for someone to be outside. I decided to go for a run, the first run in a very long time. The first hundred yards were labored—my body worked out its aches and kinks as legs that have grown lazy in the winter tried to remember how to run. By the first mile mark my lungs were robust and breathing deeply in and out, in and out. My body found its perfect stride by the second mile… a distance where I usually had quit, but I felt good. I kept going and mile after mile flew past. Lungs felt good, legs weren’t tired, body wasn’t cold or too hot… it was perfect. Eventually, I turned around because I needed to get ready for work later in the day. At the end of the run I checked the distance, and to my astonishment I had run nearly 7 miles—double any distance I had ever run before. I thought to myself, maybe I should try to keep this up tomorrow. But, the next morning did not allow me such delusions. I was sore beyond belief, exhausted and lethargic. I did not run again for many months.
Inspiration to achieve one’s dreams reminds me a lot of that day. It’s relatively easy to continue to push towards each new goal while you are in the middle of the drive. But, when you stop to look around at what you have accomplished and begin to bask in the glory and contentment, that’s when your body begins to seize up and remind you that you have been running a little too hard. I have now reached that part of my life where I am taking stock and enjoying my contentment, and also having difficulty getting back on the trail. Where I once felt I needed to achieve things, now I faintly want to continue on the paths of dream-catching.
But that’s okay for now. I may take a few “months” before I am ready to go running again.