Ever get sick of “just push through!” posts? This one’s different—a little rebellious, a little wise, a lot like real life. Call it therapy, call it theatre, call it a love letter to anyone who’s tired of surviving and ready to start living. Something a little playful to deliver an important, interesting message. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did creating it. The names and the play fictitious, the message true.
[Curtain rises. The set is a half-lit library, a swirl of books, incense, and unfinished to-do lists. Ellara, wild-hearted and deliciously insomniac, is curled up with coffee. Enter Mark, part philosopher, part nomad, all attitude.]
Mark:Darling, why do you look like you just survived a cosmic apocalypse?
Ellara:That’s just my Monday face.And maybe the aftertaste of another spiritual awakening. Or possibly too much coffee.I don’t know, Mark. I’m supposed to be motivated, but lately, even my ambition has left the group chat.
Mark:leans in, dangerous and lovingThat’s because motivation is a scam, love. A clever little con your ego pulls when it’s afraid of the silence.
Ellara:So what, I just roll over and play dead? The world expects me to keep hustling—If I stop, won’t I disappear?
Mark:You’re thinking like a hamster who just realised the wheel is a lie.Alan Watts would say,“You’ve seen behind the curtain. The game isn’t about winning. It’s about playing.”Seneca, on the other hand, would hand you a whiskey and say,“Darling, control what you can, and stop trying to choreograph the universe. Even the gods take weekends off.”
Ellara:Is that why I keep wanting to run away and live in a cave?Not a metaphorical one, a real, dark, wifi-less cave.
Mark:If you did, you’d just spend the whole time trying to get a signal to call me.smirksYou’re not meant to escape.You’re meant to wake up, see the game for what it is, and then play—deliberately.Let yourself be unmotivated for a while.See what bubbles up when the noise dies down.
Ellara:I don’t know who I am without the noise. It’s terrifying.
Mark:Of course it is. All transformations are.But listen…what if you just… did what you wanted, not what you should?What if you stopped “proving” and started living?
*[A pause. The light shifts. Something opens – a sense of possibility.]
Ellara:But what if the silence never ends?What if I get so used to it, I can’t start again?People will think I’ve quit. That I’m broken.
Mark:Or maybe, finally… free.You only feel lost because you’ve never been here before.You’re so used to surviving, you forgot how to live.Survival mode is a thief, it steals your breath and sells you back panic.
Ellara:I hate it.My mind is always a battlefield,half of me wants to run, half of me wants to stay and fight.Sometimes I just freeze.That’s when I hear all the old voices…you’re lazy, you’re not enough, you’re too much, you’re wrong.
Mark:That’s not your voice.It’s the static left by other people’s limitations.Let them drown in their own noise.You, my love, were born for more.Not more achievement, more aliveness.
He takes her hand, the library lights flicker, music plays faintly, a song about wild hearts and second chances.
Mark (softly, fiercely):Let’s get primal for a moment.Alan Watts says, “The only Zen you find at the top of the mountain is the Zen you bring with you.”It’s not about what you do.It’s how you be.
Ellara:I don’t know how to “be.”I only know how to do.If I’m not doing, I’m nothing.That’s what I was taught.But it’s not what I want for myself anymore.
Mark:Then let’s rewrite it.Let’s unlearn survival.Let’s find what makes you come alive, not just exist.Dance when you want to, rest when you need to.Let yourself be soft, unguarded.Let yourself want.
Ellara:And if I fall apart?
Mark:Then I’ll hold you together until you remember you’re made of star-stuff and rebellion.And when the world asks you why you stopped chasing, you can say:I started living.
They laugh… defiant, exhausted, still wild.
The world will keep spinning.Deadlines, lists, the grind, they’ll never stop coming.But you don’t have to let them own you.Sometimes, the most radical thing you can do is pause.Let the river carry you.Remember…you’re not the hamster, you’re the whole damn wheel.
*[Curtain falls.]
Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is let go of the script, step off the wheel, and let the world spin without you. The revolution? Choosing to live—really live—even if it’s messy. Especially if it’s messy.
Disclaimer: This article is intended for informational purposes only and does not constitute medical advice. Please consult with a qualified healthcare professional for diagnosis and treatment.
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