December 24th, 2024
It’s Christmas Eve. A day for reflection, for family, for hope. Yet, here I sit, wrestling with the familiar demons of inadequacy and regret.
This morning started with a small act of love for my princess, daughter. I moved her car and filled it with gas, more than I could realistically afford. It’s a recurring theme in our relationship – my love abundant, my financial support… lacking.
My wife, my rock, my love, carries the weight of our financial burdens. I hate that she has to, especially now, as she battles her own demons: depression, the looming shadow of health and age… she’s hurting. A mistake at work hangs heavy over her, casting a pall over the festive season. It breaks my heart to see her struggle like this.
Today should be a day of rest, a Christmas Eve respite. But the gnawing guilt of inactivity eats at me. “You deserve a break,” whispers the insidious voice in my head. But do I? Have I earned it? This year has been a blur of survival, not accomplishment. The projects, the dreams, the ambitions… all remain tantalizingly out of reach.
I’m trying to cultivate new habits. Morning pages, like this journal entry, are a start. Prompt compression, a technique to streamline my thoughts and spark action, is another. But will they be enough to break this cycle of inertia?
Today’s prompt from Robert Greene’s Daily Laws strikes a chord: “Place yourself at death’s ground.” Sun Tzu, the legendary strategist, understood the power of commitment. He positioned his troops where retreat was impossible, forcing them to fight for their very survival.
“Back yourself into a corner, Lew,” Greene seems to be saying. “Eliminate the escape routes. Make action your only option.”
There is no tomorrow, only today. But how do I back myself into a corner? How do I create that sense of urgency, that do-or-die motivation?
The Daily Stoic offers a sobering reflection: Meaningless, like fine wine. In the grand scheme of things, our accomplishments, our pleasures, even our struggles, amount to little more than fleeting moments. We are all, in the end, just filters.
But even fleeting moments can hold meaning. Even fine wine, enjoyed in moderation, can enrich life. The question is, am I making the most of my fleeting moments? Am I savoring the wine, or letting it turn to vinegar?
These are the questions that haunt me this Christmas Eve. The answers, elusive as ever, remain to be found.