Start again. (And again. And again.) That simple concept was among the teachings at one of the self-care type events I participated in, and has since overshadowed almost everything else in terms of importance of lessons learned. Well, sort of learned - more like heard, acknowledged enthusiastically, then a little less enthusiastically, and then less and less so until you find yourself wondering if eyes rolling right out of your head is a legitimate fear. But eventually, you realize what an epiphany is supposed to look like and what it ends up looking like are two entirely different experiences.  

You wouldn’t expect something so basic to have any profound—practically life changing—effects, or even a place of much importance in your otherwise almost-perfect (ha!) life. Until you decide that this is the absolute last time you have any electronic devices anywhere near you when you’ve had too much to drink. And the next thing you know, you’ve made a date with that guy you’ve been avoiding, told your stepmom how much you hate her cooking, and spent a bizarrely large amount of money on something that will hopefully make sense to you in two days (by 8 p.m.) Then you return to your frenemy once again, “Damn it, it’s like starting...oh crap...I see where this is going…” 

And as you once again flip your internal “Days Accident Free” card to zero, you breathe a sigh of relief (and frustration, and disappointment) and acknowledge the irritating beauty of life: as long as you’re alive and willing, you can always start again. And you often will. I’m convinced that’s how it’s been set up by whatever army of extra-terrestrial robot gods created this simulation of our existence. We function in cycles. In trials and errors, ups and downs...sweet and sour (which of course you can only appreciate as the wisecracking sidekick who almost never gets the girl)...but I digress. 

It might seem like a struggle at first, to have to acknowledge our failures and subsequent need to regroup and (it really works best in the singsong voice of a chubby older guru-type) “start again,” but if you’ve just fallen flat on your face, or even just need to re-energize your efforts in a new endeavor, that tired refrain becomes a heartwarming, motivating call to action. And instead of an eye roll at the mere thought of it, you find yourself grateful for another chance. Regardless of the size of the failed undertaking, the knowledge that you don’t have to spend the rest of your days in some secluded hideaway on the Island of Misfit Mortals is enough to make you happy to recognize that (almost) nothing has as much importance as we assign to it in the moment. And if we end up looking at our short time here through this lens, that makes it a lot easier to forgive ourselves (and others) for any mistakes, and be more ready to...start again.