We’re born, we work, and then we die. So what about the bit in-between we call life? They say youth is wasted on the young but I think it’s wasted on the old too. How many people lay on their death beds wishing they’d spent more time in the office, or saved more money for a rainy day. It’s going to rain regardless, just as sure as the sun will rise, the leaves will fall and thunder will clap.
Pop culture would have us believe that obtaining wealth is an end goal in itself, the ultimate achievement, the pinnacle of success - but it’s not. One day you could be filthy rich and loving life and then you could lose it all, so what then? Put your life on pause while you fight to recoup what was lost?
Living in the moment is about living beyond the restrictions that may affect us mentally, spiritually and financially. Being detached enough to see the bigger picture but not too detached that we lose sight of reality. 'A happy medium' is a good term to insert here; it feels right. And…, it’s what I strive for I guess - keeps me sane amongst the greys of this world.
I recently wrote a piece called ‘The Art of Not Giving A Fuck’ – admittedly a tongue and cheek title but the sentiments are gold. The quest for perfection is a path destined to fail. Perfection is an unrealistic ideal that’s hard for a perfectionist like myself to admit. If you can walk the path of uncertainty and take comfort in the unknown, it's a good place for growth and peace of mind - with or without a million in the bank.
So what is it that attracts us to the Johnny come-lately care-free dare devil with the furrowed brow? The answer is obvious when we think about it, they provide escapism coupled with the confidence to deal with whatever life hurls at them. Unpredictable and untamed, he’s just as likely to pin you up against the elevator mirror as the doors open, as he is to whisk you off for a weekend of dark carnal pleasures. But he remains primal enough to snap and bite should you cross him.
If we create our own reality with conscious thought, it’s fair to assume we can all maintain the furrowed brow mindset of seeing the world as we choose. One day we’ll all be gone and there’ll be nothing left of us besides a grave, some nice words and maybe a lovely bunch of flowers.
But I’ll make damn sure they engrave ‘What a fucking trip’ on my headstone.