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This is about the journey, not the destination. Or so I tell myself as I walk upwind on the beach for the hundredth time. Despite every subliminal or conscious message we are told since birth, endeavors are not to be measured by their success on a scale of one to ten. Actually, our days shouldn't be measured at all.
So yesterday, day 3 of kitesurfing, I stood up 3 times, swallowed 10 times the daily requirements of salt and managed not to lose my sunglasses in the ocean. Objectively and subjectively, it's been a good day. But that doesn't stop me from feeling the pang of frustration every time I crash and lose my board, and drag myself to the beach after a few failed attemps to retrieve it. I swear, if I ever buy a board, that thing is gonna be fluo colors all over and LED lights and smoke signals. But worse than all my incompetence is seeing how easily everyone of them just gets up and goes and jumps.
This is how my life feels right now. Scary and exhilarating, fast and frustrating and out of control sometimes, like everyone somehow got the memo on how to live it and I didn't. It's like I am holding all this power in my hands and I'm just somehow on the brink of learning to control it and give it purpose and direction but some days it fell like I'll never truly get there.
This morning I couldn't sleep so I went up on the deck and watched the sunrise and meditated, and then a giant spider drove me away.
Fluctuat nec mergitur. In the end, it will be alright.
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