Wrestling Alligators.
Emotional Alligators that is.
Life sure is heavy right now. Between dealing with a worldwide pandemic and trying to savor bits and pieces of normalcy where we can get it, our emotions sometimes make us feel like we are wrestling an enormous alligator.
I too have been on a rollercoaster of emotion. Just before Covid hit, I was planning to leave my amazing job at lululemon to help start a new business - a clothing and gift boutique. It wasn't even a month in to this new venture when Covid shut everything down and it left me and the two owners of the business, speechless and frankly scared shitless.
I bring this up...because as we pushed through to get the store built out and our website up and running (as we couldn't open our store to the public yet), my emotional ups and downs were palpable. Will we survive this? Who starts a business during Covid? Will I have and keep my new job? What if this whole things fails?
When we are faced with challenges and it leaves us feeling unstable, it tends to bring up all sorts of things from the past. For me, it was failed relationships, failed projects, failed friendships, and so forth. It kept piling on and one day felt like all of these experiences were bubbling to the surface in the form of one big alligator. I was wrestling it - and I was wrestling these emotions.
I took a step back and assessed and here is how I wrestled my alligator:
1. Slow it down. Slow everything down. Warp speed is our nature and to truly heal what we are feeling, we have to feel it. Let the emotion happen and give yourself the space to be angry or sad, cry if you need to, laugh it out...but feel it. Then move forward.
2. Physically activate yourself. It's very easy to snowball yourself into pity, doubt, and depression. This is probably the hardest part of the alligator wrestling. Scientifically, physical activity is proven to boost your levels of happy! And it doesn't have to be going to the gym or running 5 miles. Go for a walk, do 3 yoga poses for 10 minutes, put on some tunes and dance it out. But get that blood circulating and move your body (it was meant to move and groove), and enjoy the release you feel after. Make it a habit and watch how things change.
3. Honor yourself, scars and all. Sometimes we feel insecure about our scars and past experiences. We don't want to feel judgement from others. These beautiful scars actually help us to be stronger, more alive and vulnerable, and connected to those around us. The judgement we think will happen is truly just our own judgement. Honor yourself for where you have been, how you grew from the past, and how BAD ASS you are now. That's something to celebrate! For me, I put on my favorite dress and lipstick and took myself to dinner because I wanted to celebrate who I am. Do the same in whatever way feels good.
4. Celebrate the little wins. I often remind myself that my big lofty goals can't happen without a series of small wins. And it's certainly easy to forget that success is not measured by hitting those goals - it's about the journey and process towards it. When some days, like the big alligator day, will feel too big to tackle...start small: Make your bed, your lunch, clean your house, do 5 minutes of meditation, complete 5 things on your to do list (instead of 20), make yourself a great dinner, read a book, fold and put away all your laundry (I am the guiltiest of this one), and celebrate that you did the best you could today. I often feel overwhelmed by the amount of things I need to complete, so I start small. Small wins eventually become the big ones.
I hope this helps you in this weird time and remember, that each day is a new opportunity to be great, feel great, and do the best you can. We are all human, wrestling alligators on the daily, so make sure you celebrate yourself for the effort.
xo Kristin
About the Creator
Kristin Silvestri
I am an artist of many avenues, interests, and avenues. But I am also human and have lived a full and adventurous life. Here are my thoughts, my insights, and my motivation.
Take what inspires you, take what you need.
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Don’t Waste Your Life
The alarm rang at 9:30 a.m., but Hamza did not move. He stared at the ceiling, scrolling endlessly through his phone. One video became ten. Ten became fifty. Outside his window, the sun had already climbed high, shining brightly over the small town where life was moving forward without him. Hamza was nineteen, full of dreams once—but lately, those dreams felt distant. He used to talk about becoming a civil engineer, about building strong bridges and tall buildings that would carry his name into the future. But now, his days were filled with excuses. “I’ll start tomorrow,” he often said. Tomorrow became next week. Next week became next month. His mother would gently knock on his door. “Beta, the day is going. Do something meaningful.” “I will,” he would reply lazily, never lifting his eyes from the screen. Hamza was not a bad person. He was kind, polite, and intelligent. But he had fallen into the dangerous habit of wasting time. He didn’t realize that time is the only treasure that never returns once spent. One evening, while wandering outside aimlessly, he noticed an old man sitting on a bench near the park. The man was writing in a small notebook, his hands wrinkled but steady. Curious and slightly bored, Hamza sat down beside him. “What are you writing?” Hamza asked. “My memories,” the old man replied with a soft smile. “I am writing about the life I lived.” “Was it a good life?” Hamza asked casually. The old man paused. His eyes grew distant. “Some parts were beautiful. Some parts… I wasted.” Hamza looked at him more closely. “When I was your age,” the old man continued, “I had many opportunities. I wanted to start a business. I wanted to travel. I wanted to learn new skills. But I kept delaying. I kept thinking I had plenty of time.” He closed the notebook slowly. “Now I am seventy-eight. I have time—but not the energy. I have wisdom—but not the years.” The words struck Hamza harder than he expected. “Do you regret it?” Hamza asked quietly. “Yes,” the old man said honestly. “Not because I failed. But because I never truly tried.” That sentence echoed in Hamza’s mind the entire night. Not because I failed. But because I never truly tried. Back in his room, Hamza stared at his ceiling again. But this time, his phone lay silent beside him. He imagined himself at seventy-eight, holding a notebook filled with regrets. The thought frightened him. He began thinking about his father, who worked long hours every day to support the family. About his mother, who prayed for his success. About his younger sister, who looked up to him as a role model. Was he truly living? Or was he just passing time? The next morning, Hamza did something unusual. He woke up at 6 a.m. The sky was still painted in soft shades of pink and orange. For the first time in months, he watched the sunrise. It felt different. He opened his notebook and wrote three simple goals: Study for three hours daily. Exercise for thirty minutes. Learn one new skill every month. They were small goals—but they were a start. The first week was difficult. His mind constantly whispered, “Just relax today. You can start tomorrow.” But he remembered the old man’s regretful eyes. He forced himself to continue. Slowly, discipline replaced laziness. He began preparing for university entrance exams seriously. He reduced his time on social media. He started reading books about successful people—not just their achievements, but their struggles. He learned that greatness is not built in comfort. It is built in effort. Months passed. Hamza didn’t become a genius overnight. He didn’t suddenly turn into a millionaire. But he changed in a deeper way—he respected his time. When friends invited him to waste hours doing nothing, he sometimes joined—but in moderation. He understood that rest is important, but wasting life is dangerous. One afternoon, he visited the park again. The old man was there, writing as usual. “You look different,” the old man observed with a smile. “I stopped waiting for tomorrow,” Hamza replied. The old man nodded slowly. “That is the secret. Tomorrow is a promise that is never guaranteed.” Hamza sat beside him and shared his new routine, his goals, and his small victories. The old man listened proudly. “Remember,” the old man said, “life is not about being busy every second. It is about being purposeful. Even a small step each day can change your entire future.” Years later, Hamza stood on a construction site, wearing a white helmet with his company’s logo printed on it. He had completed his engineering degree. It wasn’t easy. There were failures, sleepless nights, and moments of doubt. But he never returned to the habit of wasting time carelessly. He often told his team, “Time is like water in your hands. If you don’t use it wisely, it slips away.” One evening, after finishing work, Hamza visited the same park bench. The old man was no longer there. A local vendor told him softly, “He passed away last winter.” Hamza felt a wave of sadness—but also gratitude. He sat on the bench and opened his own notebook. He began writing: “Today I completed another project. I helped build something that will stand for decades. I am tired—but proud.” He smiled gently. He understood something powerful: Life is not wasted in one big mistake. It is wasted in small daily neglect. In endless scrolling. In constant delay. In fear of trying. And life is built the same way—through small daily efforts. Through discipline. Through courage to start. As the sun began to set, painting the sky golden, Hamza whispered to himself: “Don’t waste your life. You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to begin.” The wind moved softly through the trees, as if agreeing. Every sunrise is a silent gift. It arrives without asking for anything in return. But it also carries a quiet question: What will you do with today? Hamza finally knew the answer. He would not waste it.
By The best writer a day ago in Motivation
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