“It seems to me that if you or I must choose between two courses of thought or action, we should remember our dying and try so to live that our death brings no pleasure to the world.” — John Steinbeck
We are born soft. Not weak, but with a certain sweetness embedded deep inside our souls. As kids, we feel invincible in our desire to discover the world, to conquer it, to become who we want to be.
Nothing seems impossible. Nothing is out of reach.
But then we grow up and most often than not, we grow weary of others. We try to be like others, we want them to like us, we want to be accepted…
We sacrifice so much of who we are for others that at a certain point it feels as if hell is, indeed, formed of other people.
They are the source of our unhappiness. The boss that doesn’t appreciate you, the people who don’t respect you, the parents who don’t understand you, those who didn’t love you back.
We are interconnected, there’s no denying it, but other people aren’t hell…we just think we need them.
We treat others the way you’d treat an object. We want them…we want them to do something for us, to offer us something. We expect them to save us from ourselves. To give us love and attention and admiration and…
And we suffer.
Yes. We suffer. We feel hopeless at times. Why can’t they see that we’ve sacrificed so much for them?
But the truth is that others don’t have to do anything for you.
So, is there any way out of this labyrinth of suffering?
Yes, but you might not like the answer.
Be better than all those who failed to see your worth. Love them anyway. Help them anyway.
Not because you want a reward from it, but because you are that kind of person.
What you do for others ultimately determines your legacy. What lives on long after your bones have turned to dust.
Be better than them, because no one said you can’t be.
It might seem as an almost impossible task, especially if you’ve been hurt and disappointed in your life, but, trust me, it’s worth it.
When I first started writing…I dreamt of fame and glory and awards and money and all the other crazy stuff teenagers dream about. I wanted to be a kind of rockstar of the written word.
But then, as years passed and no one read my stuff, I just wrote for one person. Just one… There’s not much fame or glory in that, right? And since I wasn’t getting paid, no money at all. But I saw that my words made that person smile. And think. And wonder about life and love and everything in between.
So I wrote even more.
I wasn’t expecting anything from it. And, believe me, my life was far from perfect. Twenty something, broke, lots of health issues. No friends…
I felt depressed. Alone. Angry sometimes.
But I was making one person smile.
We so often underestimate this, right? Making on person smile…
We want to conquer the world, to reach the top of the mountain, to write the greatest novel ever written, to touch people’s hearts.
What we fail to understand sometimes is that we reach the top of the mountain one step at a time, we write that novel just one word at a time, we touch people’s lives one smile at a time.
And this is how you conquer the world.