this year came to me as,
of all things,
the bone deep unseen ache
in your ass
the day after doing squats.
the quiet scream
the invisible burn
that follows the act of
breaking something down
so it can can grow bigger
every move,
every step,
every ascenscion
demanded a quiet resolve
despite the wincing
to trust the god damn fucking process
“damn the process”
words said often under my breath
find me both between each weighted set,
and now here at this threshold between
this year and next.
and yet,
I wouldnt be here
between sets and between years
if I didnt come to somehow trust it
to believe
the stripping,
the ripping
the breaking
and all the grief
that come with them
was doing something.
to trust that
letting something
break was
maybe,
just maybe,
actually an act
of letting something new
be built in its place.
not unlike
a sore and tender backside,
this year taught me
to notice the pain
and, against all reason,
appreciate it
for it symoblized
something developing
something evolving
something expanding
something strengthening
something becoming.
yes, limping around is
inconvientient and uncomfortable
but would I not rather the pain
of becoming something new
than the pain of
slowly atrophying away into
something smaller?
so maybe
2025, after all,
came to me
as the
cure to my self
atrophy.
yet
“cure” makes it sound
like some kind of “magic”
and there was no more “magic”
in this “cure”
than there is in the
quiet and resolved act of
going to the gym at 6:00am
on a cold and dim
midwinter morning
and doing squats
when there is literally nothing
more you’d rather not do.
so if there was magic ,
in this year
and
the
transformation
it midwifed
it was not some whimsical woo woo
act of divine grace and sycnronicity
no, no, no,
the magic of this year was
found in the unspoken grit of
showing up, alone, despite
not wanting to
the unglorious act of
doing the thing
that hurts,
and
letting the hurting thing
do something to you.
the being breathless
and weighted down
and unmotivated
and uncertain if you can
really even see this thing all the way through
and still not giving in.
the courageous act of trust
knowing that the reward of
a year like this,
with all its demands
you met squarely
eye to eye,
all the difficult
work you gave yourself to
day after day,
will someday come,
in some form,
somehow.
after all
you don’t do squats
for instant gratification
as if new muscle appears immediately,
nor does one
become
oneself instantly either
sometimes there’s
a season of
cold and dim
and lonely
difficult work
but not seeing the
results immediately
doesn’t mean it’s not
worth it
so yes I may be
limping into 2026,
but I do so with the same satisfaction
as wobbling out of the gym
knowing I’m perhaps
a little stronger than before
and trusting it was worth it.
SO VERY HUMAN 