It was sometime in the last few years that I sensed a significant change occurring within myself. Seeing death in the flesh struck me deeply, causing a deep observation and perspective I didn’t hold before.
It was then I realized that the vast majority of our life and experiences are meaningless, though not in a nihilist sense. But meaningless in that I spend my days in action, toiling away perilously, though not in my own garden.
I will live and I will die and I will not be remembered. There may be a brief moment of recognition by a few, but that too is fleeting.
Life stops for no one, not even the dead.
I can spend my days toiling in barren fields – working enough, consuming social media, chatting about nothing with friends and strangers alike. I can repeat the days and thrive in habits, but at the end, watching my life played out would be like a stream that flows in to a pool that stagnates, instead of a stream that swells into a powerful river, cutting through the hard, trying Earth, gaining momentum and strength until it finally cascades into the vast ocean, letting itself become part of the greater tide.
I came out of this vision with undefined purpose. A seed in my hand to be planted.
I understood that I needed to stop searching for the singular vision of myself: that one hobby, career, personality trait that would define me. I have one opportunity to take advantage of, and in that, I should grow in every way I have desire to.
It was then that I began to slowly remove my self-imposed barriers, to ruthlessly evaluate what has true meaning, and slowly, to return from the barren fields I was toiling and enter into my own garden ready to prepare for a harvest long due.
Ingredients of Self 