Strength

"My eyes were glued on life; and they were full of tears."  -Kerouac

Strength is a tricky thing. 

It's terrifying. 

It's unexpected. 

It's mad.

It's unnerving.

It's beautiful.

So what is it that gets us through lifes curve-balls? How is it that our intrinsic self-worth scale escalates while we seem to feel that we are in fact plummeting? Without question there is something beautiful about picking yourself up after a fall. There are things in life that we feel we cannot ever fully recover from. The pain takes over, the discouragement arises, and worst yet, the self loathing consumes you. 

In the end of the pain, we make it out to the other side.

We recover. 

Sometimes life hurts. The important thing to remember though is that it is okay for life to hurt. Its okay to admit "son of a bitch, when I fell, I scraped my knee, and damnit that hurt!" It is up to the individual though to decide what direction they will take after this admittance. Do you fall onto the ground and cry and whine and suffer? Or do you pick yourself up, get some Neosporin and a band-aid and dive into a pint of Ben and Jerrys?