Sup, guys. Happy Monday.
I’m bumpin’ Clairo at work right now. I have a few important emails to send out, but other than that, my Monday is looking fair.
Hope you guys are killing it out there, wherever you are.
A funny thing happened last week…
Lily and I had my god sister over at our apartment for a good week. It was amazing. We laughed, we smoked, we shared our feelings and dreams with each other. It was dope. We had a great time.
But… the whole week that Alex was here, my apartment didn’t have hot water.
LOL. If it sounds super insignificant that’s because it totally was. But still, we were being so dramatic about the whole thing. For example: I would let out loud gasps coupled with “FUCK FUCK FUCK.” Lily would scream because duh, she’s a princess. And Alex preferred to suffer in silence.
We worked around it.
Lily heated water in a pot.
I forced myself into brutal shower sprints.
Alex stuck herself in the freezing drizzle limb by limb.
It wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t bad.
Then I kinda got used to it?
It didn’t surprise me that after a couple of days of abiding to this masochistic routine, my body was quickly adapting to it. The ‘fucks’ were less loud. My breathing was more controlled.
I can do this, I thought, all is well in the world.
Then the water was fixed.
And just like that, the shower was no longer a torture chamber.
So what’s the point of all of this?
This short unintentional exercise of exposing myself to cold showers served as a great reminder for 2 ideas:
Our privilege is exactly why we’re so unsatisfied when things don’t go our way.
In order to do hard things, you first have to build the tolerance for said hard things. Or else you’ll fail miserably and be discouraged to ever try that hard thing again.
How do we build our tolerance, you ask?
Like anything, you develop a tolerance for seemingly unbearable situations through short bursts of exposure. Those short bursts grow into long bursts, and before you know it, that hard thing has morphed into an easy thing.
Magic.
Thanks for reading.
Peace!