Some folks spend their whole lives standing still. They look at what life has dropped in their laps, say thank you very much, and hold it until their bodies shrivel with old age and they once again belong to the very earth on which they stood. I don’t know if I should feel sorry for these people or just envy the hell out of them. Honestly, I feel a little of both.
I look at people standing in their spot, happily holding their lives and think, “Run, you fool! Run before you’re stuck there so deep a MAC truck couldn’t tow your ass out!” How can they just accept what’s been given to them, what’s expected of them, what life says they ‘must’ do? Don’t they know there’s more out there, more for them to learn and know? More books to read and people to meet? I feel sorry for them and the fact that they don’t want more.
I look at people standing in their spot, happily holding their lives and think, “My God, that must feel good; to be content. That must be wonderful.” What peace they must have to know that everything they could ever want is right there in their hands. Everything they could ever need is within their reach and there’s nothing to worry about or strive for or fail at, because they’ve already found their way. They’ve already found their place. I envy them and the fact that they don’t want more.
There are two sides to every story, well, three if you’re my granny: ‘Your side, My side and The Damn Truth.’ There’s always more than one way to look at a situation and more than one choice to make. I suppose a case could be made for either way, standing still or wanting more, and at the end of the day we just have to find out what’s right for ourselves and pray like hell that we figure it out before the end of our days.
Let me know if you come up with anything because I sure as shit aint got a thing.