Life, Death, and Resurrection

Life, to me, isn’t a journey toward stability or a steady accumulation of achievements. It’s a constant cycle of highs, lows, and reinvention. A relentless ride that I’ve stopped trying to control or even fully understand. And somewhere along the way, I made peace with it. I’ve come to embrace the dips, the crashes, and the moments of freefall. The lows aren’t something to fear; they’re something to accept, even welcome.

When things are good, I’m not under any illusion that it will last forever. Joy, success, love are fleeting by design. And rather than clinging to them desperately, hoping to preserve their existence, I let them come and go as they will. I’ve learned that clinging too tightly to the highs only makes the inevitable descent more painful. The world conditions us to chase stability, to see success as something permanent, but nothing is permanent. And success, more than anything, can be a trap. An illusion that masks the fragility beneath. People who believe they’ve “made it” often find themselves devastated when the foundation crumbles. They cling to a false sense of security, and when it vanishes, they’re left hollow.

I refuse to be like that. I’ve come to see the low points as essential, as part of the rhythm. When you experience them enough, you realize they are markers rather than obstacles, signals that it’s time for a reset. It’s not failure; it’s just the way things go. This pattern doesn’t stress me out because I’ve seen it play out time and again. The so-called setbacks, the losses, the chaos, are just preludes to the next phase. And every time it happens, I know there’s a rise on the other side.

Stability, on the other hand, is a kind of slow death. It deadens the spirit, makes people complacent and numb. They start to value comfort over experience, safety over growth. They become hollowed out and spiritually sedated, clinging to a life that doesn’t challenge them anymore. They might be “successful” by some metric, but they’re missing the point entirely. And when the inevitable comes, when something unexpected shatters that illusion of control, it’s like they’ve been thrown off a cliff they didn’t even know existed. They’re lost.

But not me. I know how this game works. I’ve seen enough of these cycles to understand that the highs and lows are part of the same ride. I don’t cling to the peaks or wallow in the valleys. Instead, I stay on the roller coaster, foot steady, knowing that real opportunities and genuine connections are rare but worth the wait. Everything else, the day to day, the people who come and go, the minor ups and downs, are just filler. Not meaningless, but not worth getting too attached to either.

When the lows come, I don’t panic. I don’t try to fight them or escape them. They’re just moments to ride out, resets that prepare me for the next chapter. It’s not about enduring or surviving them; it’s about welcoming them as part of the process. The lows don’t signify failure or the end of something, they’re just the pause between what was and what’s coming next. And the longer I stay in the game, the more I see this rhythm play out. Each rise, each opportunity, comes when it’s supposed to, and the lows are simply the necessary spaces in between.

So I stay on the roller coaster. I refuse to get off, because the highs and lows aren’t obstacles, they’re the point. And every fall carries within it the promise of something new, something better. There’s no sense in stepping off prematurely, in giving up before I’ve seen where this ride leads. No matter how many times I’ve felt the walls closing in, I know the best is always yet to come. Not as blind optimism, but as a recognition of the cycle itself.

In this endless pattern of life, death, and resurrection, I find a strange comfort. I know that every low will eventually give way to something else, and each resurrection brings with it a chance for something unexpected. That’s enough reason to keep going, to stay on the ride, and to see it through to whatever comes next.

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