Sit in the dark.
Turn on Bon Iver’s self-titled album. Lie on the floor. Burn incense. And fucking let go. There’s a point where you don’t have to hold on anymore because well, you don’t. No one is going to be able to tell you when you’ve reached that point. There’s no flag that will fly up in your mind. However, if your eyes are clouded with tears and you don’t know how to keep your eyes from brimming over anymore, just let them fall. And with each tear, tick off an apology, a forgotten eulogy to things you’ve lost, celebrate things you are nervously jittering over, or cry because you don’t know where the money’s coming from to make ends meet again.
But let it all go.
Lie on the floor until it’s done—-until every tear has traced a path down your cheek, until the last of the incense has burned down. And then I want you to pick yourself up off the floor and get your shit together.
You are too strong to let the world defeat you. I promise you this. Look at what you’ve overcome. Tell me how many of those things you thought you could handle.
You’ve got to believe.
And you’ve got to [m o v e o n.]
