There are far too many pages in my journals that start with “Day 1.” You’ll see it there on the first page, then in five more pages it will come around again. And then twenty pages in, when I’m sure I really will keep going, it’s there yet again. It’s like I keep pressing the reset button on the game each time I fall off and fail to reach my goal.
For the past few days, I felt myself itching to take on yet another challenge. Surely this would be the one where I’d finally make the changes that I was too stubborn to make before. But what if I just have to restart again. Would it be that bad? And then the news hit.
First it was just the world around me. Then it was my loved ones. And then it hit me, deeply at my core, cracking the excuses I held so tightly. As it all started to crumble, it became blindingly, painfully clear.
This isn’t a game.
There is no reset button. My excuses are not a secret tactic that will help me hit a new level. There are no checkpoints here I can respawn to. I can’t just set the controller down in hopes of coming back tomorrow to finish. I don’t have infinite lives. I have to play it now, like I have just one life to make it all happen.
I’m ready to play like my life depends on it.
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