It’s my go-to answer.
What’s wrong? Nothing.
Of course, what I mean is everything.
Life is so hard; there’s no way around that.
There’s nothing you can say to make it easier.
No magical cure for the troubles that plague us.
What are you up to? Nothing.
It’s my code word for avoiding the truth.
The truth is I feel stuck, and I’m sad about it.
I’m not moving forward. I’m not making progress.
I’m treading water, ‘til my legs throb.
And still I’m barely keeping afloat.
I’m drowning, quite basically. And worse. I’m refusing to do a thing about it.
I’m not kicking harder and faster to beat the waves, at last.
I’m not screaming for help either.
I just keep… almost going under.
Nothing ever changes.
That's a fear most days.
What do you have to offer? Nothing.
That’s what it feels like some days.
What do I have to give the world?
What can I do to make others’ lives better?
What can I do to make a positive difference during this blip of a life I’m given?
It’s what I want to say, what I feel inside.
What I am afraid to admit. What I’m sure no one will understand.
Only somewhere deep down I know it’s not true.
I know that I’m not alone in feeling that way, but also that those feelings aren’t based in truth.
Part of me knows nothing is hopeless, even if it seems that way some times.
But what can I do to really, finally change things?
For a long time I worried I'd have to change everything to see any difference.
I'd have to walk away from every thing I ever believed in, everyone I ever loved, in order to find myself somehow.
But now I'm thinking the answer is much simpler, and less painful, than all that.
I think the key isn't to change everything.
It's to not do nothing.
I can show up.
I can refuse to give up.
I can try harder.
I can ask for help.
I can take a break.
I can take baby steps.
I can take my time.
I can take a deep breath.
Mostly I can admit I know next to nothing, and learn to trust that’s okay.
I can do something, and hope for the best.