Bowl of Cereal

sometimes doing the least is actually doing your best.

Chapter 64

Sometimes it feels like you have to do everything on your own. Maybe it is true, because you are single or work for yourself or live on a deserted island with your stick friend who is of no help at all, other than criticizing the structural integrity of the hut you have built for both of you (ungrateful stick).

Maybe it is not really true, because you have a partner or colleagues or friends who repeatedly ask you if they can’t help you and you, continually, say “No, I’ll be alright, but thank you!” (stop lying).

It is hard to be alone and it is hard to feel alone. The two aren’t mutually exclusive. Even your best friend Stick knows that.

Sometimes people compliment you on your fortitude, resilience or bravery and, for the briefest moment, you’d like to sit on their chest, pour the distilled essence of your anxiety/grief/sadness/illness down their throat and squeeze their brain while screaming “THIS IS WHAT I FEEL LIKE, ALL OF THE TIME!”

Most of the time they are right. You are great at doing most of the things you have to do in life and, most of the time, you do a lot of them all on your own and, for the most part, you are very brave and strong and capable. It’s not always true though.

You definitely fuck up some things along the way and realize that there was an easier way to do a thing only after you have done it the hardest way possible. Unless you are perfect, like Stick.

Either way, it is fine. It isn’t great, but it’s fine. It also sucks, but it is fine. You know how to cut yourself some slack, by now, and stop trying to do everything, right? You know you can’t actually do EVERYTHING, right? Which is why, sometimes, you get to have cereal for dinner or lunch or brunch or linner.

You keep a box around for days like this. Days you do not feel as strong or capable as you are on every other day. You can only be an amazing superhuman for so long before you have to take a break and just be regular human, with mismatched socks and no idea where you put your phone. Part of being amazing is allowing yourself to be less than amazing sometimes and then building yourself back up, stronger, and smarter than you were the day before.

Cereal goes in the bowl. Milk goes on the cereal. You know how much milk you like.

Next time someone offers to help a little, say yes (even though you think they won’t do as good a job as you would). Next time you are trying to carry something that is actually too heavy for you to bear on your own, ask for a hand. People want to help; you know this because you want to help.

But don’t ask Stick for help, that ungrateful stick is useless.