Failing Elegantly

Resting isn’t quitting, quitting isn’t failure, failure is hardly ever fatal.

I remind myself that tired doesn’t mean incompetent or weak, it means tired.

I remind myself that resting doesn’t mean I am quitting or giving up, it means I am resting.

I remind myself that quitting doesn’t mean I am a failure, it means I quit.

I remind myself that failing doesn’t mean I will die, it means I have failed.

I remind myself that death doesn’t mean irrelevance, it means death.

Each experience has its own place, it is the confusion of these that causes much distress.

Resting, quitting, failing, and dying have all been successfully experienced by many before me and will be experienced with excellence by many after me. They are very doable, rather unavoidable actually.

What I intend to do is feel tired when I am tired, rest when I’m resting, be dedicated to quitting, sink into failure, die with death.

Seems simple enough, so let’s begin with being tired, as that I am most days, especially closer to bed time. Tonight I intend on releasing into tiredness unapologetically, not verifying if I have done enough to merit such a state, not making sense of it based on the time I woke up, or the way the stars are placed. Just being tired.

*yawn