Perspective

She struggled. She didn't want to walk anymore. This was way too hard. The heat, the pain, the others who seemed to even enjoy it while she was fighting to put one foot in front of the other. She was ready to give up. She didn't care, either. There comes a time when you just can't walk anymore. When enough is enough. When you realise that you are not made for this. That you should better find a different hobby. That this is not you – and this never will be you. And then, she looked around. One last time. And then, she closed her eyes. She listened. She breathed. She let go. And she walked once again, just putting one foot in front of the other. Not looking at the other people or at her surroundings. Ignoring the world. Just walking. One foot in front of the other. And then, suddenly, she arrived. She had made it. Once again. She had managed to get to the top. She smiled. She had arrived.

Life can throw you curve balls. Some of those are quite easy to catch, others – not so much. And sometimes, too many balls come flying at you, from every direction, until the ground looks like an enchanted winter wonderland, covered with little and big white balls, gently gathering at your feet and sticking in your hair. And you think that life is not fair, that you can't possibly cope with all this stuff, that you will never ever be able to get out again. And then, you think back to the time when you couldn't walk no more. When everything had been too much. And when you had focussed on the task right in front of you: One foot in front of the other. No more. No less.

Life can be incredibly unfair sometimes. And life can be incredibly hard sometimes. Overwhelming. Too much to go on. Never-ending. It can leave us feeling completely out of our depth. It pushes us, challenges us, all the time. And sometimes, all we need is to gain some perspective. Perspective on life. Perspective on ourselves. Perspectives on others. Life will always throw us curve balls. This is what it does. But it is for us to choose what we do with them. We can sit down and never move again. We can thrash around and watch them fly, but they'll always come back. Or we can sit down with them, pick them up one by one and get to know them. And then, we can decide if we keep them or put them away. That's not to say that the going will be easy. But it will make it worthwhile. And it will help us to arrive. In our own time. In our own story. In our own life. Arrive home.