Wrangle your own volatility. Don’t make other people do it for you.
Borrow weapons if you need to.
Learn how to charm it into submission.
You are the one most familiar with its stealthy attacks.
Be content with a bit of bruising and scraped knees if you fall while running toward that which you love.
If you need to sit and sulk over your injuries, do so.
Remember though, you can always get up and keep running.
Walk or crawl if you need to.
Look around. No one is racing against you.
Learn the sacred, ancient art of gently kicking your own ass.
Remember that self-pity only takes you on expensive dates and pays for everything so it can talk endlessly about itself for hours.
And it’s not very interesting.
Just say no.
Contemplate the idea that your greatest sources of power are hidden in places you least wish to tread.
Indulge your inner rebel.
Go on a treasure hunt in those places.
For proof that your heart still has ample room to open and expand, be courageous, and let it break.
Sew it back together over time with the never-before-seen thicker threads of new love.
(Bonus: Adorn your heart with what you found on your treasure hunt.)
Don’t be afraid to do the dirty work.
Taking out the trash and cleaning up waste clears space.
Things will smell a bit nicer, also.
Learn to recognize the difference between solitude and loneliness.
They are identical twins, so it is easy to confuse the two.
One has your best interests at heart.
The other keeps trying to set you up on dates with self-pity.
Just. Say. No.
If emotions are guideposts, consider where yours point to.
Or where they point away from.
Remember that the guideposts are written in a language only you can fully understand.
Learn that language.
If you ever find yourself crying over uncertainties, make sure you also laugh over this certainty:
One day, you are going to die.
May the challenges and joys be just what you want and need until then.