This post has been inspired by the gorgeous Miss Mary Max and her hosting the Self-Discovery, Word by Word series, September edition. This month’s theme, Enough, has always made me struggle enough, as the following text perspires. But being able to write about a struggle is, to me, taking one step forward in this long run that is life.
Enough is enough.
Or, as it seems, until I say it is. Enough can be a never-ending race if I call it so but don’t call stop.
Too often I find my mind located in my foot, in motion or suspension, waiting to crush a handful of pebbles. But not yet, though; these pebbles are hopes of not being squeezed by a single sole. Yet, yet again, they are going to be trampled on as my mind wanders to my other foot in a flash.
The stamping must go on. The race must be won. One sole, sometimes two, moving in accordance but never in the present.
Eyes watching back, back watching eyes. Whose back? A better back, the best one, running too fast but wait, no, I’m gonna catch it up and then with everything else.
Catch back. Catch up. Catch in every possible direction until you find something solid, sturdy, impossible to crush.
Pebbles are weak. The ground is malleable. The sky, leaky.
My inner runner is not able to be weak. But I have been tramping on her, and I’ll keep stamping until her body is mashed enough.
And as I’ve reached the soft end of the spectrum, I’ll run back to the harsh one, as fast as I can, as if « enough » couldn’t last more than a half second.
Enough is never enough. An end is never its opposite. And rarely is enough seen in pain. Maybe it is just running away from it.
And I’ll keep on running, beating many more enoughs, learning new limits and bumping back in them.
Hiroshimem 