The Upside of Rock Bottom

I’m not here to diminish your struggle. I’m not here to tell you that what you’re going through is easier than you think it is. I’m not here to invalidate your suffering. You’ve felt the weight of rock bottom. You know it is the lowest, most unforgiving place. It is arid and lonely. It’s polluted with despair. It is a nasty place. But it is not the worst place to be.

I would know; I vacation there. Rock bottom does wonders for the spirit. I need to hit rock bottom at least once a year. In the end, it helps me to refocus. Please, please don’t get me wrong: it is not an enjoyable vacation. I suffer there. I cry, I plead, and I shut the world out, and let the darkness swallow me for a bit. And every time I return, I am more powerful and more rejuvenated than ever. Every time I make it through, I recommit myself to this little life of mine.

Maybe for you, rock bottom is being abandoned by your significant other or by your family. Maybe you arrive after losing your income, losing your friends, losing a loved one, losing your mind, or losing all of the above. At any rate, it’s rock bottom.  Every strand of hope has been severed. You can’t find any way out of the darkness. You can’t even muster the energy it takes to even care enough to move from where you are. You don’t want to reach out because you’re ashamed of your position. You look around for hope, help, anything to grasp on to. You search your situation for just a morsel of elevation. And right now I encourage you to stop. Quit. Don’t look around any more. Look up.

Rock bottom comes with a beautiful view. When you’re down there, flat on your back, at the lowest of lows, realize that you can’t go anywhere but up. All that is ahead of you is possibility for progress. At rock bottom, you have access to a breathtaking skylight view of your future. And it is literally all good, because at rock bottom, your situation has no choice but to get better.

Rock bottom is a re-starting point. When you’re there, you’re there, and it sucks. But being there affords you a little time for stillness, reflection, and regrouping. You’re allowed to shirk some of your responsibilities and focus on what you need to do for you.  But you can only stay there for so long. At the bottom, it’s just uncomfortable enough that you have to get up.

I’ll let you in on a little secret about my vacation spot too: the rocks down there are are made of rubber; you always bounce back.

Look up, rest up, get up.