Not sure at which point I decided
That berating myself
Was a good idea.
Maybe it was out of fear
That my flaws might overtake me,
Or perhaps a belief that deep down
I am really not good enough.
So the only way to get good work done, I decided,
Was to beat it out of me
With a mental stick.
Not many of us live on the heights for long,
None of us live there all the time.
The valleys, the stumbling, the awkwardness,
And yes, losing steam,
Are part of the human experience.
If for no other reason,
Perhaps not being hard on myself
Will let me come to terms with my limits,
Put the stick down
And reckon with my humanity.
for though the righteous fall seven times, they rise again