To All the Quiet Nights I Was Lost

Strength means something different to all of us, as many other words do.

Strength can be lifting that heavy table into your new apartment, or being able to hold that small compact mirror as you try to do your makeup in the car, or going through that workout you've been holding off for so long without dying.

But also, strength can be looking at your newborn child, or listening to your favorite song, or doing what you love. Strength can mean anything.

Strength is endurance. Strength is power. Strength is love.

Strength is looking at your life right now with uncertainty of what will happen tomorrow or within the next decade. And yet, you keep getting out of bed and going out there to face what the universe has headed for you.

We may not be fairy tale characters that go on daring adventures against evil queens and hideous trolls, but that doesn't mean that we don't go through our own versions of big bad wolves and enormous beanstalks. We have no assurance at all whether or not our happily ever afters exist, but we still face the day. Maybe we don't want to. Maybe we don't have a choice.

But yet, we're still here. Still breathing. Still alive.

And that, I believe, is strength.