Still Trying Not to Quit

Still Trying

How many times have I given up? Too many times. This question, given to many others, would probably be answered no differently.

I forget when I first gave up trying. It happened after I was persuaded of its normalcy.

"It is alright to fail once in a while," a voice said.
"Stop being a perfectionist" it admonished.
"Maybe you should focus on what you are good at," the voice recommended.

This voice never explained why I should not try again. It led me to think it was acceptable to surrender in confusion. I would look around for company, hoping my cowardice is common. I focused on what I was good at: quitting.

Giving up became much easier after each "success", since I need not properly justify it to myself. I became proficient at making excuses and distracting myself. It became a habit too soon.

A new phase emerged.

There was once a clear line between things I cared obsessively for and things in which I do not. The line was defined by my willingness to give up: I hated to quit on obsessions.

The line progressed northwards. Obsessions were relegated to interests and then to philosophical arguments about why I should bother. For a time, making excuses were routine. Like a child learning to walk, the initial difficulty disappeared and it became inevitable. Giving up was so natural and forgiving myself for giving up became reflexive. Persistence almost felt wrong.

"Look around, people are giving up too."

I realize that I gave up too willingly. I was unaware of a better alternative to quitting. To keep on trying dammit. A dead end might not be genuine. It doesn't have to stop at a first failure.

Walking off a painful fall does not imply walking away. Stand up; think; march on.

Perhaps life is about trying and not getting anywhere in particular. A hot shower is more rewarding after a long run. A life might be worth more after a long struggle. Moreover, the struggle adds meaning even happiness.

We need reminders that anyone can laugh even in the most dire circumstances. Friends, stories or ice cream; whatever it takes to stand away and laugh at yourself, take a deep breath and dive in ready to give it your best shot again.

Gerbode. She showed me how to laugh in the most inspiring way.

March on, yes I will. This time singing and dancing I will.

There is beauty in everything, and they are not found in the usual places. Wonderment hides where their discovery might be the most rewarding.

Matt Dogg. He showed me how I listen to the words but not the story.

March on, yes I will. This time with my mind open.

Many people pin hopes on their children to accomplish what they could not. Apparently, they have already given up on themselves and the only saving grace is to transfer their dreams to their hopefuls. They know that it is impossible for them to accomplish their own goals before trying again.

I will try never to be such a father. In fact, I might even try never to be a parent since I'm not done parenting myself.