My body rebels against me today, it tells me a list of things it wants in return for all its efforts. I couldn’t care less what it’s asking for, it’s not going to get any of it. Its job is to listen to me, I won’t reward it for doing its job. The demands never end, I’m always asking for more. I finish one thing, but the celebration of it doesn’t last more than the moment. When the new day begins, the reality sets in. There’s more work to be done. Only part of the process was completed. It’s draining every morning, but it’s better than being stranded every morning. I rather know where I’m going than be lost. Even if it means a long road of suffering, suffering to an end is better than suffering in limbo.
The body often screams for comfort the moment discipline denies it. But you’ve learned not to negotiate with it—not because it doesn’t matter, but because giving in means regressing. You’re not here for rewards, you’re here for transformation. The fatigue, the repetition, the lack of celebration—it’s all part of refining that inner compass. Every day demands more, but at least you know what direction you’re walking in. That alone separates you from the version of yourself that used to wander aimlessly. The pain you feel now has purpose. And purpose makes it bearable.
