If someone was to walk in on me today, completely extempore, random, anywhere; in a mall, classroom, house, I bet they’ll report back that I can’t be extolled as the strongest person around. That’s true. It’s obvious! At least not physically. However, I don’t think I’m a dunce or emotionally weak at least those sectors are well taken care of. But none with a dint of pride because even those that are mentally and emotionally handicapped didn’t choose that for themselves. It just sort of happened or were born with it.
Well in my opinion, strength sometimes isn’t an choice. Sometimes we decide to put on a brave face to keep up with a facade that we’re doing alright. Other people just can’t. The fire inside just gets too fierce. Their scars become deeply incinerated, their doubts grow and fear bursts out of it seams. They get consumed in their sorrows, despair, depression, name it. They tend to show their
weakness and vulnerability. Physical strength may be a choice though. But then I think what of those that have defective muscles and weak bones?
Let me speak for myself. One thing that I’ve learnt is that choices have power. What you have no power over, can be but that which can be worked on, I beckon myself not to be a lazy ass. That which I can do, I won’t let myself give half cooked results. I ain’t too strong physically but I’ll be damned if I don’t try to. More often than not I imagine my forefathers, before the era of mechanization, there weren’t knives or guns or arrows, how did they protect themselves? Punches and kicks? Karate? Taekwondo? I fancy that. I pursue that type of strength everyday because its something I’m short of. Not because I want to be Arnold Schwarzenegger or the likes. No! But because it gives me grace to step out of my comfort zone. I believe that I’ll need it so badly one day like a drowning person longs for air. I’m not just trying to work the hardest, I’m doing it with all my zeal and zest.