“I try to make a move just to stay in the game,” Tom Chaplin of Keane sings. “I try to stay awake and remember my name.”
I feel as if I’m struggling just to keep my head above the water. It’s a swimming race and I’m so far behind I barely count as part of the race. And that’s with all my effort. I’d be on the shore far behind if I wasn’t struggling and kicking and constantly punching the water to try and stay afloat and move a minuscule amount forward. And then, at the end of the day or week or month I’m exhausted and tired out and I think, well, at least I’ve moved forward, but then I look down and I realize that not only have I not moved forward, all my struggling has actually pushed me back a foot.
And I don’t know if I have the energy to keep going. Sometimes the discouragement from going backwards when you’re giving it your all can keep you from ever getting anywhere. Sometimes.
“Just stay in the ring for three rounds,” the main character on Little Mosque on the Prairie tells the Imam, “just keep evading your opponent, stay in the ring, and we’ll call it a win.” We’ll call it a win if I can just keep going. That’s all I have to do; keep at it, keep fighting, and stay in the game. The mental fight against the discouragement is the fight at this point. That is the game. If I can win against that, then I’ll have won, insha’Allah.
Maybe what counts at this point is not the public race but my own race against myself. Maybe I should stop for a bit; stay in place and just stay afloat. Not letting myself drown, even if I’m not moving forward, is a win in itself I should think. Maybe allowing myself the time and not piling on the mental anguish of not moving forward will help me relax enough that I will be able to move forward again. Maybe. Insha’Allah.