Go before you feel like it

Your favorite song comes on, and it's just sound. The show you love, the game, the friend you used to count down to seeing. All of it's playing at half volume. So you stop bothering. You tell yourself you'll pick it back up when you feel like it again. That one reasonable sentence is the whole problem.

You're waiting for a feeling to sign off on an action. It runs the other way. The cigarette hogged the volume knob so long that everything else got turned down. The dial turns back up on whatever you keep doing. You're not choosing between fun and no fun today. You're choosing what gets to be fun again.

A flat stretch can shrink a life without anyone noticing. One by one the dull things get dropped for being dull. Then the smaller week gets blamed on freedom. Keep them on your calendar instead, even at half volume. God grows the lasting kind of joy slowly, and He's patient with a flat start. Showing up flat still counts.

Pick one thing you've shelved and bring it back today. A set hour. Twenty minutes. Expect it to be mediocre, and go anyway. If the whole world stays muted week after week, let your doctor know. Guarding your joy is part of staying free. The feeling is a step behind you. Go first. There's nothing in the way anymore.