Why is it that life is so confusing? I always have a lingering feeling that whatever I do is not good enough or not correct, or that I should be doing more.
I will be honest, it is hard to feel great with this constant bombardment of negative feedback. I keep telling myself that no matter what I do, it will turn out okay; it is supposed to happen for one reason or another.
So therefore, I have to ask: what is that makes people great? What do these people know or do that I do not?
Reading this post got me thinking of the role others play in feeling great.
Given that I haven’t always had friends to support me, this question is a little difficult for me to answer. However, living in this way has taught me wonders about the role a good support system plays in moving forward.
Given that I am so introverted, I have always had difficulty in putting myself out there; the idea of people picking me apart and critiquing every moment of my life is very unappealing, yet sometimes we have no choice but to do it. In order to be truly great, it seems we must do this at some point or another.
This is where a good support system comes in. Imagine that you are struggling with something. You have been trying over and over again to do this one thing, and to get it right. Someone comes along and tells you: “You’re doing great. Don’t give up. I believe in you.” Maybe this person even gives you a hand and helps you complete this task.
Positive feedback is often the one element that a person needs to be great. If several people are behind you, then it aspires you to move forward and achieve greater goals.
Since we do not always have this help, it is vital that we go out and find it. Distance yourself from all those who would do you harm. Anyone who laughs at you and tells you that your dreams are a worthless pursuit are not worthy of your time. Use their spiteful words as fuel to motivate you to achieve your goals.
And most of all, don’t forget that you are worth it. You are great. You will win if you keep on trying.
To end this post, I will attempt a short poem:
Silently the dull wind blows
in the snow covered trees
to the dead beat
of her own misery
What can he see
that makes it dream
his harsh words bleed
Her aching heart screams
through howling beams
of haunting light
of worthless love
his head held high
floating so high above
he cannot see
what it is like to be me
so go away now
and let me be
the reaper’s bow
an oblivion unseen
Pick up the pace
and look at my face
each finger trace
will lead you closer to the race