The pain of knowing in your head that you will never have that life, the one that coined the term Rockwellian, reverberates within your head when the weight of the world pulls you down. You can only focus on that life, even at the expense of your own. This life is so real, because plethoras of others have achieved it. A life where your concerns are no longer that of yourself, a life where joy is external because you have created something so internal that it transcends your inner existence and mortality, a life where your achievements are necessary beyond your self, a life where we can be more than an island is what we all crave.
I find that those who take all avenues towards this goal are the ones who are happier in the path. Those who run towards it are the ones that are disappointed when they get there. Those who build their lives towards it are the ones that cannot go one when it falls apart. Those that say they do not want it find they have it already in their compatriots, or are too afraid to be vulnerable because if they fail their lives will fall collapse back into singularity. No human shall ever be an island because the beach is always made up of more than one stone.
If your thoughts are elsewhere; if they are about getting good grades, making it to a personal goal, losing weight, or earning a better job with better pay, you will find yourself more successful in a pragmatic sense. I, however, believe you will find yourself poor of spirit. I believe you will never be truly happy, although you will say you are. You need to be able to do this for yourself at some point in life, to get by. Yet you have to realize that the internal joys of accomplishments are lost to you because you are worried about that picket fence and those components of what could be.
The individualist who stands with two feet on the ground and the dreamer together, it seems as if that is required of you to succeed. When I get the most done, I get it done for the people that matter to me. I worry about getting the chance to teach my son how to shoot a hockey puck, or if I will ever be able to buy my wife a gift just because it is Tuesday. I know that there is a chicken and an egg, but which came first is perplexing enough without trying to have to make them yourself. A friend runs, not to run away but to find herself. Another runs to avoid finding someone else, another stands his ground to scare off others like they were crows after his corn, and even more do not know what they move for.
I have many theories on many things, and most of them would take a lot of time and understanding to see. You ultimately are not required to know any of them, but are required to take care of yourself and work towards that social level of acceptance. A Saturday morning watching your boys play football might not be when you want it, they might not even be playing football when the time comes, yet if you observe it then it will happen. We just tend to be messed up on the details, and sometimes we just do not know when to be about ourselves and when to be about someone else. When it starts to rain again, I will stop worrying about fire and start worrying about floods. I hope we can be there with some sandbags, together.
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