I pose a philosophical question. I came across one of those usual conundrums of life, one of those age-old questions that will never have a good enough answer during one of my periodic moments of venting my frustrations with my boyfriend.
I’m 25 years old, about to finish graduate school, in a loving healthy long-distance relationship, good relationship with family, my best friends are so fantastic I sometimes wonder if they are real.
I’m not unhappy with my life by any means, but that doesn’t mean I don’t wish my life were different. There are aspects of my personality that I would like to improve, but sometimes, it seems like personality is an element that you cannot control, and cannot manipulate. Some people can walk into a room and grab everyone’s attention, other people blend into the wallpaper…which am I? I am a full-blown workaholic, but at heart, I am steadfastly lazy. How do some people end up a perfectionists, and other’s not? The study of personality fascinates me to no end, which is mainly why I read so much. Its my own way to learn about different people, in different situations and trying to put myself in their shoes reading their thoughts and feeling their emotions. But this has a downside, because whenever I read a really good book, or watch a really good movie, I’m left with a feeling of sadness because I witnessed someone else’s life, someone else’s story while these passing moments of my life were left unfilled with stories of my own to share. These people have drive, ambition, courage to take the necessary steps to ensure that something worthwhile is going on in their lives. Why live vicariously through someone else’s life when my own is ready and waiting to be taken out into the world, ready to explore, to experience? Moments like these always make me want major changes in my life, to my personality, my actions, my routines, but nothing ever really changes.
My main point is this:
I hate feeling like I always “want” to do this or that, to “want” to be more of something, less of something. Why do I want? Why can’t I just be happy being who I am, where I am and with what I have?
But, isn’t that “want” that drives people? If I didn’t want change, wouldn’t my life become inert and I would never develop and improve? If we never settle, never accept what we are, then when will it end? Why should we settle when we know something better waits for us out there?