Notes From a Man Learning How to Stay
I was taught how to leave. Leave the house early. Leave emotion at the door. Leave nothing unfinished. Leave no weakness behind. Leaving was praised. Staying was never explained. For a long time, staying felt like failure. If I slowed down, something must be wrong. If I rested, I must have earned it—or lost my edge. If I stayed too long in one place, one season, one feeling, I started to itch. Like I was wasting time. Like the clock was watching me. I mistook motion for progress. I didn’t know how to stay with discomfort. I didn’t know how to stay with grief. I didn’t know how to stay when the noise stopped and there was nothing left to distract me from myself. So I kept moving. New goals. New plans. New responsibilities. Always something ahead of me. Never anything beneath me. But life has a way of cornering you. It slows you down whether you’re ready or not. It puts weight in your hands and asks if you’re strong enough to hold it without dropping everything else...
