Numb

I started building my new online business almost a year ago.

I’ve dreamed about creating a laptop lifestyle for almost 15 years, and now I’m finally within one month of its launch.

With 4 books written, 2 courses created, and audiobooks soon to follow, I’ve “arrived”.

But I can’t feel it.

I feel numb.

I’m numb from all the years of longing, but not having.

Numb became my native state.

When you’ve grown accustomed to certain feelings, it’s sometimes hard to notice the new.

When all you’ve eaten for years is raisin bran, raisin bran becomes a part of you, even to the point of masking spaghettis’ splendour.

If you go without long enough, you can become accustomed to less — even forgetting what it is to dream.

There isn’t a vast difference between winners and losers.

They both have 24 hours a day to spend.

It’s just that winners spend them chasing dreams. While losers, spend them trying to chase away nightmares.

Both chase. Both choose. Both plot.

One plots a course they want. While the other, plots to repeat the very things they profess to hate.

I know each camp well, because I’ve lived in both.

I used to complain about the circumstances I was creating, believing I was a victim.

But I finally dusted that off, like month old skin.

Now a brighter, softer, new me has formed — shed of that complaining carcass.

I’m still a little numb though. The breezes on my new body seem surreal.

Everything feels fantastically foreign. I don’t want to wake from this blissful place I’ve finally arrived in.

I will never return to where I came from.

For I’ll take this numbness over nonexistence, any day of the week.