We don’t choose to be lost. But we can choose to be found.
That’s something I only started to understand when I was in my early twenties, drunk out of my mind and burning off the fumes of my first major league fuck ups.
I didn’t want to be found at that point.
I didn’t want to save my own life because in a certain way I either wasn’t ready or I was enjoying my disillusion and apathy way too much.
What it took to reach the point where I could actually pick up the pieces of my failed business and my debt and my depression was deciding I was ready.
Not “becoming ready” and not “reaching some enlightened state” — making the decision for myself that I was ready to try again.
What it takes to save your life is a decision. A decision to take action.
That’s not an empty idea, it’s a fact.
What it took to save my life was getting up every day with a goal and accomplishing it — even if that goal was just getting up in the first place.
You save your life with action, with activity. And that’s the hardest part. Because when you hit your lows, it can feel almost impossible to take action at all.
The path forward is rarely going to revolve around the path you’ve already walked. That’s not realistic. The way forward is to make a call. Pick a cookie and take a bite.
Decide on an action.