Maybe it’s just me, but much of my influence and conditioning growing up on this continent was about winning. Or at least having my ducks in order with some sense of control. A combination of these equals success and therefore happiness.
I’ve come to understand the nonsense within this line of thinking. Everything mentioned above is a great sell, but one that will never be enough. Moments here’s and there, sure. But day in a day out, it’s a dirty grind. And miserable way to spend your time.
Messy, bright, beautiful, devastating, heart breaking — this is living. If death came to your door today, your circumstantial-superficial-subjective realities wouldn’t mean much. The definitive determinant would fall upon the voice within.