Today, I stood in my driveway for half an hour staring at the sky.
As a kid, I would make a game out of chasing the moon with our car and disappointment ensued whenever the moon would leave my sight.
Today, I looked up there and hoped for the moon to look back at me once more. Instead, I found that stars lit up the sky. Slowly, but surely, the glinting spread across a deep blue canvas and the night shined on.
We are often running mindlessly in search of something we have yet to be acquainted with; a far-away thought captivates us and we are charmed forever.
As your run grows longer in duration, your breathing steadies and the pain in your knees becomes second-nature. You realize that you are pining after an undefined vision with a mechanical mind on a dark road in the middle of the night. You slow your pace, and soon enough, your feet come to a full stop.
You are alone and you are afraid of what you can’t see, but more importantly, you are afraid of what you don’t know. This fear is a dead-end with no options so you must resolve that it is unfounded.
The moon you were running after isn’t high up in the clouds today. Neither her face nor her backside are visible. You squint in frustration in an attempt to shut out the screaming judgement for having failed.
Your judgement for having failed.
Indeed, you have determined that you hold the rank of “Failure” before even setting a scale.
Your eyelids silence the ground till right under the heavy blue and you find yourself admiring a glimmering sheet above your head.
No more running. A stroll of appreciation for a small gesture by the universe.