Sometimes, for whatever reason, I end up not doing the things I usually do. Things that I like, things that are good for me, like running, or reading, or playing the guitar, or cooking healthy food, or writing.
Sometimes, predictably, it spirals downward. I feel sad, or tired, or ill, and I don’t do the thing that I like that is good for me, and so I feel worse, and so I keep not doing it, and it goes on.
I have two lessons to take from this. The first is that in general, it’s better to suck it up and do the thing. This is admittedly not news to me, and can’t possibly be to anyone else, but I’m sure this isn’t the last time I’ll learn it.
The second is that there is more to a person than their hobbies, or goals, or successes or failures. I just told someone else this just the other day, but it’s a harder answer to accept than it is to give. Who am I, without the things that I do?