So the other day I walk into my second favorite place on the planet, the bookstore, (the gym and cage are obviously the #1 contenders) and I head over to the selection of the most current best sellers. I happen to notice the majority of the most recent best selling books are self-help ones. Not only that, they all have titles that are exceptionally expletive-laced and quite brash. I wonder if that is merely to capture our eye, or if it’s the latest trend on the market that people are so ravenously clamoring to lap up into their starved minds. I pass by titles of ‘Calm the F*ck Down’ or ‘Get Your Sh*t together’ or even ‘You Are a Badass’. Definitely all tidbits of advice we can all probably heed, albeit however brazen the message is relayed to us. Intrigued, I thumbed through several pages on a handful of these books and I can’t believe how much money these authors are making simply by telling people to “nut up.” They all boil down to pretty much the same exact message: we all are dealing with stressors that effect our wellbeing. It’s how we choose to react to our circumstances that matter. So just get out there and do what you have control over and don’t be stressed by the things out of your control. Easier said than done, right?
Sometimes when I am feeling buried by life, I try to remind myself that nothing ever flourished or bloomed without first being put in the dirt. Perhaps I am not being buried, but rather, I am being planted, waiting for the gratuitous moment to burst forth from the soil and grow. I can’t always choose the things that happen to me, but I can choose how I react to them and my outlook going forward. Maybe like those self-help books, I should just throw more curse words in my path and tell myself to get the fuck over it and quit being a little bitch. Who the hell is anybody to make me feel inferior and why would I ever allow someone that power? No matter how many people you have in your corner, ultimately the only person who is going to 100% be there to pick you up day in and day out is you, so you might as well make that person the most reliable and strongest person worth having. You don’t want a weak minded fool watching your back, but rather a hulking figure of fortitude and strength who never wavers on their reliability. Be that powerhouse.
When I die, I don’t want my tombstone to read “Here lies a little bitch. She thought about great feats but due to a fear of failure, never even made the attempt. May her soul wallow in unaccomplished limbo for eternity.” I am 28 years old and still have a long way to go before I reach my goals but I will keep pursuing those dreams every single day. Just like the new Nike commercial says, it’s only crazy until you do it. I have been told lately that I am not working hard enough, and I plan on changing that. I will leave no stone unturned or no doubt in anyone’s mind that I can achieve greatness, not out of spite or bitterness, but out of pure concentration of willpower and determination. This isn’t about proving anyone wrong, but more about proving myself right. I am not too weak to continue, nor am I too lazy to try or to fearful to conquer. Before a phoenix rises from the ashes it must first burst into flame and I plan on setting anyone ablaze who steps in front of me. Caw caw bitches (or whatever noise a phoenix makes. I am a writer and not an ornithologist that specializes in mythological creatures. Sue me.)
My blogs lately have been really whiney, so I wholeheartedly apologize about that. Perhaps I should have bought that one self-help book on being a badass so I could flex my metaphorical balls and coast by on self righteous smugness. Curse me and my inability to not scoff at anything I find patronizing. From now on I don’t care how painful, sore, achey, exhausted, or beatdown I feel, I will just grit my teeth and shut the fuck up. And if any of you out there ever want to talk and vent to me, my inbox is always open. I may type a lot on these blogs spilling my guts out, but I promise I’m a pretty good listener as well. Except apparently on the mats where again I need to learn to just sit the fuck up and do as I’m told. Which is true considering this is my job. Life really holds no punches I guess.
So yeah, if you made it this far you can bear witness to the fact that I will be a walking, breathing self-help book called “not giving a fuck about the negativity and bullshit and only pursuing my badass future by getting my damn act together.” I think that has enough profanity to make it to the top of the best-sellers list. I mean, once they put in the asterisks over the selected consonants and vowels so we can censor the innocent eyes from having to witness such filth. Perhaps I should work on softening up on the sarcasm a bit as well. It might be difficult to change so much of my persona so quickly, but give it time and you will see the improvements occur. Fighting is often compared to chess, with its intricate movements and attention to detail corroborating with the appropriate gameplay of attacks and counters. And after all, the most powerful piece in chess is the Queen.
