

Sometimes, I don’t write when I have nothing to say. Tonight, I’ll write because I have nothing to say. It is best to write, because if I don’t, they I may never say anything ever again. For some, this isn’t the worst thing.
A few weeks back, I mentioned how I had been using the same pair of running shoes and earplugs since Covid. I have since bought a new pair of running shoes, and have good earplugs at my disposal.
One does not always recognize the self-imposed restraints on one’s life. There have been many things I have held back from, or held onto, to my own detriment – such as an old pair of shoes.
The conception of one’s life’s potential, or God, can be as big or as small as one believes.
Life/God is as good as one believes. If I don’t believe my life is good, it isn’t worth my salt to be happy about zilch. But by believing, I really do accumulate joy and gratitude for whatever it is I believe.
I’ve felt before that life was very small: Lives in hometown, no girlfriend, ratty apartment, etc.
Now I feel as though my small life is very big: Many friends, healthy, good food, big city, etc.
God can be as nasty as a drat old dog if I believe it. But at some point, it is on me to decide what I am going to believe all the dog gone days, or if I’m going to try and think bigger.
I suppose mental health is the ability to chose one’s thoughts instead of them being chosen for you by insufficient brain chemicals.
I take ginko biloba, lions mane, and Omega-3s, so that my brain my optimally operate.
I learned today that the brain can use up a lot of our energy. I am awfully tired lately, and I think it is from thinking!
I have always had big ideas. I used to think small things, too.
So, even if I’m a bit more tired than usual, I hope it is because I am using my brain to choose to believe in good things, instead of small ones.
It dawned on me, that for as good as my life is, there is a whole world outside of my own little world. Perhaps it deserves to be participated in.
I hope that I can begin to start living instead of running in the same old pair of shoes my whole life.
There is good news every week, and the weeks are short, but I work very hard. And, if you work hard, big things can happen.

Ben Bonkoske is the author of two novels, Spoon in the Road, and Carolina, Colorado, California. He is also the author of two collections of short stories, Ten Zen by Ben, and Eleven Stories for 11:11. He lives in Chicago, where he likes to take walks.
B. A, M.A.T.