Learning to Walk Again

Learning to walk again.

Getting up from where you had fallen. Brushing the ashes off your pants. Combing the twigs out of your hair. Shaking your head three times to finally clear it.

Learning to try again.

Having been beaten down by some crushing defeat. Sitting dazed on the side of a secondary road, wondering how you would possibly rise. When every single star in the night sky seemed to have it out for you. When even the Sun that morning decided to turn away.

When every betting man and woman in Vegas laid odds that you would finally give up and go home, back to the job you have been complaining about for years. Back to the back of the classroom, to sit with the troublemakers and other forgotten fools.

Well, you’re not alone.

I’ve been there. And I’ve seen that place.

It’s long and brittle. But it can be overcome.

It will be.

And I'm betting my money on you.

That where they see mountains, you see molehills.

Where they see defeat, you simply see delayed delight.

And that, right here, in your perfect little moment of truth, you will find the will and the want to rise.

To raise your arms and your eyes to the very tips of the trees.

And yell in defiance.

And then you will walk again.

Yes, slowly at first. And you may stumble and fall.

But, soon, you'll gain your gait.

And your legs will stride.

Then, my good friend, I will watch, I will smile, and then I will cheer.

As, once again, you begin to run.