The Hustle. Where most dwell on a daily. Characterized by the toil and the labor made worthwhile by the fruit of the labor. We choke on the hustle, gasping for air on the hustle, feeling like we are going under on the hustle. Frustration, affliction, the scourge? Daily bread, basic needs needed. Toiling for the food for the strength to toil again. It’s a vicious cycle, like a dog running in circles to bite its tail. A cycle of deceit, a cycle of defeat. Is there no end to the bite of the hustle?
In comes passion with its own magical powers. Power to introduce love in the hustle. Power to turn the hustle into passion filled grit. Power to hear the harmony in the pounding of the day, finding the joy in the midst of the storm. Smile, because someone once said ‘You either do what you love or learn to love what you do’. Music, love, joy, laughter all working together to transform the hustle. Turning me from mean mugging to smile sharing, to loving what I do and loving where I’m at.
Now I soar in the realization that life and death is in the power of my tongue. I chose life and it chose me back. I live, I love, I enjoy every bit of life. My cogs are clean now I’m no longer hustling, no longer on the corner. Lifted by life’s music driven by God’s love. The hustle, is no longer a hustle.