Day 15 of 31 July, “Life Moves On”

Day 15 of 31 Days in July
The TBI Collection of the PTSD Poetry Project


“Life Moves On” 


Fast pace

Jog, jog, jog

Keep moving

Always forward

Never back

Endurance is the key

Stubbornness fills my being

I will NOT quit

My life isn’t beginning

It’s been moving on without me

Like a driverless car

I’ve been sitting in the back too long

Locked in

Tied down

This isn’t trying

This isn’t going forward

I struggle to break free

I get the door open

I jump out of this dangerous vehicle

I jump back into my life at a run

I’m discovering my pace

The one of endurance

The one where there are pit stops along the way

To refresh

To recover

Then back at it again

Life stepped in

Nothing will stop me

I will find my pace

I will keep moving forward

Staying in the light of day

***


July 15, 2016

Personal journal entry

       So life begins. This is what others would say. “Now your life can begin.” This isn’t how I look at it. My life was already going along and has hit full stride. It’s preparing to run at a pace which will keep me moving forward at a faster pace. Inside myself I’m uncertain, a bit unsettled about this pace. Can I keep it up? Can I keep moving forward will I have the endurance? This last one I know, without doubt, I have. Endurance in aces.

       Or perhaps it is I am merely so stubborn I will not quit. It always circles back to this. I have a lot of ‘try’. This time however, this is all very different. Follow through, seeing moments to the end, letting them go and see if something is successful or not, this is different. My memory was always of ‘trying’, never giving up but really never seeing anything to the end. Or worse it was an abrupt shocking stop.

       This jolt of the abrupt stop is what I remember well. How I would be in the groove of my life, balancing too many things like a juggler with plates and the sudden crash of everything breaking apart. The day I fell was one of those days. My life had begun to fall back into place after the abrupt stop. All it took was a moment of in attention, of tripping over a thread in a carpet. This was the moment everything permanently changed.

       Nothing sexy or interesting. A seemingly simple event which became a life changing injury. Life is this way and I have always said “life steps in” because it does. Life doesn’t care if I am hurting, am happy, or I was trying to change for the better. Life simply happens. It moves along in spite of me sometimes really not wanting it to.

       My life, in spite of how I look has not always been about the ‘sexy things’ or ‘sexy moments’. There will always be the balance of passing gas and burping, being real and being silly to remind me I am human too. The person I was and still am often needs this reminder. Fifty decades of my life have passed and more.

       I’m still trying to figure it all out. Maybe this is an ongoing quest.

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