23 January 2014

Life matters if...



A portrait of Woolf by Roger Fry

For quite some time, I’ve been dreaming living the life of Virginia Woolf, this is my secret.  I always wanted to spend my days in daze then in a second writing feverishly, if not, furiously.  I would just float away in my own world where I can just make it into my own, how it works, how it looks like, and how events would transpire and explain it in my own terms.  I fear of dying of boredom doing something that does not make me happy.  I understand, this is not how conventional wisdom flows.

Is this the life that I want for myself?  A life lived on other people’s expectations and daily rot.  My poor idealistic self is again staring at me, asking me “What do you live for?”  I have an automated response to this question, of course, for my kids, for my husband, my family, but never for myself.  I may sound selfish as I say this but I am very certain that I am not.   

First, we need to live for ourselves before we could go on conquering the world.  To attain that level of self-recognition, you must define yourself, aspirations, fears, and all.  Simply put, you need to know what makes you feel great, the type of feel-great that makes the hair at the back of your neck stand.  You need to pursue your passion, if you don’t know it yet, then you must take time to search it.  This is the essence of a life well lived.  One can only live for others unless she lives for herself first.  This is now my answer.