Matthew Strader, Food Box Challenge Participant

Day Four, Lesson Four

Empty.

That's all I've got to describe how I feel.

Physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Sure, I've had a headache for a couple days, and I haven't gone for a run all week because I feel fatigued, but it's been a week. Outside of cravings and frustrations - feelings that have served to show me just how unaware I am of what difficult is - it hasn't been physical torture.

 I haven't been able to sleep well, and that is draining me. I think the lack of sleep is what is growing this mental fatigue I can't seem to get over. Simple words are suddenly difficult to think of. I want to fall asleep, but my mind is anxious and doesn't let me. I equate it to a 'too much coffee cram session' during my university days. You're spent, but something else is keeps you up. Frustration grows and you're all around uncomfortable.

But more than that...I feel empty.

My legs feel useless, my veins feel like they're pumping simple water around my organs and nothing is getting what it needs.

(I'd sacrifice a chicken on an altar to the Gods right now for a glass of milk...

Who craves a glass of milk?)

 And I can't understand how I live in a world that will allow people to live like this, and I hope I can be an agent of change.

I'm not going to turn into a philosophical nitwit and stand on the mountains wrapped in canvas and hemp while I decry everything that is material in society.

I live in a market system, and I will try to get ahead.

I'm not going to act like some don't deserve what they have, and their circumstances.

I went to university for eight years, I suffered for two degrees, and I have a daughter and a wife (my girls) who I want nothing but the best for.

I've sacrificed a lot that I could have given them because of my morals. I sometimes get crap for it, but it's the one thing, maybe it's my spirituality? (I'm not a church goer) that has always made me feel like a good person.

A literary agent, about 10 years ago, told me if I would sacrifice what I like to write for a pseudonym and harlequin romances (guess I'm good at the tear jerkers) I'd be on my way. I said no.

There's a lot you can do in journalism, even in small towns, that you can do to jump ahead, instead of climbing the stairs like everyone else.

But I won't. It allows me to keep my chin up, and as a good friend who shares (and participates heartily) in the burger joint debates with me has said - if you believe in it, keep your head down, and keep working.

So I do.

It's always made me feel good - like maybe I'm a contributing member of society. I haven't stepped on any toes, I haven't told any lies, and I haven't become something that isn't me for anyone or anything.

But is that all I could do?

Lesson four it seems, is another no. That isn't all.

Lesson four is the line, and I think I might have to redraw it.

What is enough? Where do I draw my line?

I look at my car, a little black hatchback, and I've always thought it was a piece of, well...

But is it? No. It's not. It works, and I don't have to worry about it working. It isn't empty.

I want to be a clothes junkie. I don't care what people say. I want to have a giant closet filled with suits and I'd wear one everyday, 'cause man I love suits.

I own three, and now I wonder if I need all three? My closet isn't empty.

Did I need to buy the best laptop I could afford, or should I have gone a little cheaper, and done something else with the money?

I don't want to wax philosophical because I am a realist, and I'm not going to set goals that will just make me a liar in the future.

But what I am going to do is think now. What I am going to do is occasionally sacrifice what I can.

My favourite quote is one from Albert Einstein. "Try not to become a man of success, but rather to become a man of value."

I thought my line was in the right place.

Lesson four is to always remember those who feel this emptiness everyday, and maybe redraw that line...

Even if just a little bit.