You have to save your life.
A stranger said this to me the other day. It wasn’t a demand or a request or some kind of threat, it was a fact he’s been telling himself for years. And he happened to say it out loud. I don’t think he meant to give me advice or become a momentary inspirational speaker. But he did and he was. I heard those words as if he were gripping my shoulders, urgent and pleading. You have to save your life.
It’s the easiest thing in the world to take our working lungs for granted. To give our wishes to the stars and our hearts to someone else. Because we’re conditioned to wait for knights on white horses or fairy godmothers with the right spells. “What’s next?” doesn’t always have an easy answer. We want the flick of a wand.
We want to believe in a magic that changes it all for us. But, maybe we have to be the hero this time.
There’s going to be whole chapters we want to skip and thick, wayward forests but we have to attempt to pick up enough pieces to build a castle with. Because happily ever after isn’t an ending we can find ourselves living without loss and struggle and fear. It might not even exist. There might always be burning suns overhead and this idea of a blissful forever can only be the mirage that keeps us going.
Maybe that’s all this man really meant, just, “Do whatever you can to stay breathing on this impossible, spiraling planet. Even if it’s not all of the things you imagined, call it home for as long as you can. Fight for this, the hurt and the love and the hope and the beauty here. At least try.”
Sometimes, I want to let Prince Charming handle it. I want him to sweep me off my tired feet and wake me up with that saving kiss. To tell me the battlefields I’ve been braving lately are just part of some make-believe story I forgot I was reading. I can stop thrashing in these cold, tangled sheets and all of the pretty shoes will fit now. It’s only birdsong and glitter from here on out.
But maybe fairytales aren’t real until I rescue myself.
Maybe the lesson has always been simple: life can be reclaimed. @megmagers
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Maybe we just have to put our own armor on and say, “Here I am, showing up to this day, ready to slay the things that threaten to break me. Here I am, charging the empty spaces I carry. And I’m going to survive.”
What can you do to save your life right now?
Megan Magers is a freelance writer in the Los Angeles area working on her debut novel. With a hungry heart and an appreciation for the little things, she believes in daydreaming and stargazing and maintaining an intentional relationship with the world. You can find her on Twitter.
Image courtesy of João Silas.
