But a lot of the experience seems to be based on grinding through, determination, battling on, crawling your way through the mud, hoping that there actually is a glimmer of light somewhere. And you might get a bit of peace when you get there. My own internal imagery seems to be this: me strappin my boots on, hiking boots with big, massive, clanky steel teeth which crush rocks, and my legs are pumping, pumping on through rock and mud never stopping. But the mud sucks you into it, and you start sinking, but then you gain some kind of grip and just keep pumping those legs. It's an internal, symbolic metaphor which always pops into my mind.
But maybe I shouldn't fight and just let go? Many years ago I would go with the flow no matter what, and I ended up getting stuck in real bad circumstances, depressed, souless. So the only thing that makes sense is to keep pumping those legs and crushing rocks and get my head out above the mud so I can breathe again. Just go in the direction of good feeling. So if this makes sense to any anyone, great, just keep kickin' life's ass instead of getting your ass handed to you. Get yourself a big life whoopin stick and start busting through.
If You're Going Through Hell, Keep Going ~ Winston Churchill