There’s a rhythm to life, some say. Like the beating of a drum in the chest, a steady thump that keeps you moving. But there comes a time when that rhythm slows – when your feet get heavy, and your steps start to falter. That’s when you’ve got to remember: it’s not always about the speed or how far you go. Sometimes, it’s just about moving—any way you can.
These moments—they’re not unique to you. They’re part of the human experience, and there’s a good chance we’ll have several of them throughout our lives.
Picture a vast plain under a heavy sky. The sun’s high, and the ground feels like it’s pulling you down. You’ve been running for as long as you can remember, the wind biting at your heels. But now, your legs burn, and the air feels thick in your lungs. The ground ahead blurs, the path unclear. It’s in moments like these when the running stops. You slow down, breathe deeply, and start to walk.
Walking’s not as glorious as running. There’s no rush, no thrill. But walking gets you there, one foot in front of the other, steady as a heartbeat. The world still spins, and the sun still shines, even if you’re not chasing it. But what happens when even walking becomes too much?
There are times when your legs refuse to go on, and even walking is too painful. When each step feels like lifting a mountain. So, you drop to the ground. Maybe it’s slow at first, but eventually, you’re crawling. Hands digging into the dirt, knees pressing into the earth. It’s messy, it’s hard, but it’s movement. And movement, no matter how small, is enough.
So the saying goes.
But what if crawling becomes impossible, too? When the earth beneath your hands feels like the weight of the world? This is when the world reminds you that you aren’t alone. You look around, and someone’s there. Someone who’s seen you run, watched you walk and noticed when you started crawling. They’re there, arms outstretched, ready to carry you.
Because sometimes, we forget. We forget that life isn’t always a solo race. We forget that asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness—it’s part of the rhythm. When you can’t run, you walk. When you can’t walk, you crawl. And when even that becomes too much, you let someone carry you.
It’s not about giving up. It’s about knowing that we all stumble, we all tire, and there’s no shame in being lifted when you need it most.
The CJBuzz 