Once the fruit is squeezed there’s no more juice. At least not in that piece of fruit. There’s always another piece of fruit to keep the juice flowing. It comes from a seed. Planted by a farmer. Grown into a tree. Pollinated. And then the fruit grows and ripens on the branch. Makes sense.
But where does the juice come from for us when it feels like there’s nothing left to squeeze? That ability to endure. To persevere. To. Just. Keep. Going. There’s only one of us after all.
Just when I think I’ve got nothing left. When I’ve reached my limit. When I’m frustrated and exhausted and just plain sick of the grind. There’s more.
And maybe I’ve just become good at telling myself to stop being such a goddamn baby. To suck it up. That it could be worse. And that this moment of utter frustration will pass.
We are fueled by something more than water and sunlight. Instinct. Sheer will. Determination. And unwillingness to settle for failure.
Look I have moments where I suck. But I keep trying. That’s the only option. Some things in life can’t be gone back on. And you’ve got to face up to them and find more juice.
❤️