Thoughts on Jokers, Self-hardening and Suffering
Last Friday morning, I found myself wandering through the city, lost in thought. A friend had asked me recently if I was thinking of leaving this place, and without hesitation, my instinct was to say yes. The busyness of life, the same streets, the routine—all of it had started to feel stale. But by the end of that day, something shifted.
That evening, while out for a run with my dog, I experienced a moment that reminded me just how much this city still has to offer. Side note: having a cute dog is basically a cheat code for meeting people. I can’t count how many times someone has smiled and said, “Cute dog!”—and just like that, you can riff with them. It’s a confidence booster, honestly.
But back to the run. As we sprinted across the bridge near the university campus, there was this instant where my mind went completely still. Nothing else mattered—just the rhythm of my feet hitting the pavement, the breeze, and my dog’s wide-eyed excitement as we passed a stranger who gave us a knowing smirk. In that fleeting moment, I felt pure bliss. It was as though the city itself opened up, showing me a new side I hadn’t seen in a while.
I’ve been living in a bubble lately, disconnected from the world around me. Maybe it’s time to pop that bubble and rediscover the simple joys that are right in front of me. I sit here now, wondering: how can I create more of these moments? How do I break out of my routine and uncover more of the city’s hidden treasures? I’m working on myself, learning to be more intentional and less available for distractions.
As I reflected on that run, I found myself thinking more deeply about gratitude, and a lesson from the church service I attended that Sunday came to mind. Lately, I’ve been in what I’d call a "self-exploration" phase—trying to figure out my path and who I am beneath all the clutter of daily life. The same person who had questioned my future on Friday sat beside me in church, and it was strange, but I felt a sense of calm—bliss, even.
The sermon that day was about how suffering, in a way, is a gift. I’m simplifying here, but the idea was that pressure can be good. It molds us. And I’ve felt that pressure a lot lately. I’ve been overwhelmed—constantly thinking I’m overworked, underpaid, or both. I pile on extra obligations, chasing the idea of catching up, only to find myself stretched even thinner. Side gigs, side hustles—it’s like I’m on this tantalizing treadmill, constantly toying with things but never fully satisfied.
Then it hit me: if God didn’t think I could handle all of this, He wouldn’t have given me the opportunity to feel this way. It’s a hard lesson to swallow, but perhaps this pressure is a sign that growth is happening, even if I can’t see it yet.
The idea of growth through hardship doesn’t just apply to work—it applies to relationships too. I’ve been thinking a lot about the phrase “iron sharpens iron,” particularly in the context of friendships. Some people only come to you when they need something, acting like iron, but really, they’re just fool's gold. They are waiting for you to pick them up and awe at them.
Recently, I found out that someone I considered a friend was trying to take something I care deeply about. It’s funny when people try to get one over on you, not realizing who you are or what you’re capable of. They underestimate your strength. They assume that you are blinded by the shininess unable to see their true intentions, but I see clearly.
But here’s what the ignorant don’t realize: I’m at the top of the Mohs Hardness Scale. I’m a diamond. They can try to apply pressure, but the only one who can damage me is me. I won’t let someone else’s insecurity or jealousy determine how I walk through life.
"Everyone is jealous of what you've got, but no one is jealous of how you got it." - Jimmy Carr.
These words resonate deeply with me. People often envy the results, but they don’t see the journey, the hard work, the suffering, and the perseverance it takes to get there. It’s a reminder to focus on your own path, no matter how tough it gets. Eventually, the time not spent on honing skills or learning lessons catches up to everyone, and the fall is painful.
"Above all else, focus on acquiring knowledge and skills. Knowledge and skills are like gold—a currency you will transform into something more valuable than you can imagine."- Robert Greene.
And that’s where I’m headed: toward growth, toward sharpening my own iron. Because no matter the pressure, I know that I'm being shaped into something stronger, something better.