That time I got tired

I’m the restless kind. The type of people who do one thing, get so high by it, give it everything, then get bored, so bored; it’s like depletion and then want something bigger. I’m that type.

I’ve probably gotten tired more than a dozen times in this year. Bored of many different things. But, this time, I was so tired I was nagging, sulking and hating. It is a bad place. Such a bad place.

So, I went back to reading.

I’m the reading kind. The type of people who feel like when shit hits the fan, there’s someone else who’s gone through it and has written something about the experience and how they dealt with it. I’m that type.

I do this all the time. Sometimes it’s Job, or it’s Paul or maybe Joseph. Other times, it’s a self help book, and then more often than not, it’s a blog I stalk. There are some people who write so well I want to live in their houses and watch how they type out such awesome stuff. Some of these people make me feel like they are my kindred spirit. Others, inspire the hell out of me, I just sit and say “I want to be like you when I grow up” inwardly. Only problem now is I’m grown already.

So, I chose James. James Altucher.

I’m the probing kind. The type of people who dig and know so much about people but always look aloof like they know nothing. It’s really an interesting thing. I’m that type.

I stumbled on James four years ago. I was serving in Bayelsa, getting a hang of broadcasting. I was in that place where I was so into it, I knew I was going to get bored in a little. I thought I could find a new thing to get me going that I’d incorporate somehow. I realized I was into getting people’s stories, knowing what they were about, how they moved from here to there, what made them tick, how they made certain choices, figuring them out… so, because I’m the reading kind, I started to look for people who did that sorta stuff, and I stumbled on him somewhere in the mix. I had read so many random things back then, I couldn’t get over him.

The thing about James is, he writes on a lot of different stuff and somehow intertwines it to his life with such fearless honesty. It’s everything. Plus , he’s had (and written about ) so many down times – with random humor thrown in – it’s hard to not want it.

So, I chose him.

I’m the bookmarking kind. The type of people who read something so legit, they want to keep it for their next generation to read too. Sometimes, I bookmark stuff ’cause I read it too fast and didn’t mull over it like I wanted to. Other times, because I’d need to jot stuff out later. I’m that type.

So, that time I got tired, I needed help. Not the talking to ease things out type; the stable daily conscious effort that leads to an all round change type. I went back to my bookmarks to find this post I’d loved and kept because I hadn’t mulled over it or jotted stuff. Then, I wrote down the take outs in my notepad, set up alarms and reminders in my calendar. Made a real pact to work it out.

I’m becoming the doing kind. The type of people who write stuff down and get stuff done. I’m – becoming – that type.

P.S.: While I was wrapping this up, my friend pops in to talk about something she’d just found – Miracle morning routine. I did a quick search on it and find James already has a post up on it. I love James. Love.

Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it – Charles R. Swindoll

Happiness is a Journey

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It’s physical, like a continuous stroll

You’re on this never ending stroll with yourself, your thoughts, your mind

And with each stride you have to constantly find something to delight you; on the pathway, from your memory, from somewhere

Even when it’s not there

 

The stroll can sometimes be uppity and you break into a run

The air in your face, your body releasing endorphins in gorgeous amounts

And with each release you know your day will be bubbly, just because

Even when you don’t feel like it

 

Other times you’re just so weak

You’re crawling, tears streaming down, baring your soul to Him

And with every gasp; you’re asking for your light to brighten up, for your joy to fill up again

Even when it feels so far off

 

Happiness is a journey, it’s like a continuous stroll

You’re on this never ending stroll with yourself, your thoughts, your mind

And with each stride you have to constantly find something to delight you; on the pathway, from your memory, from somewhere

Even when it’s not there.