The sport and scourge of life

If there is one thing I know to be true, it’s that there are multiple truths. That fortune favors the bold and still good things come to those who wait. If there is one thing I’ve learned to be an absolute, it’s that there is not one prescribed way to live successfully. It’s a delicate measure of many potent things, adjusted and cared for everyday. There is nothing you can apply to life to yield a certain outcome, no source code for anything we strive for.

The sport and scourge of life is that you must choose to live it every day. You cannot let it lapse, you cannot grow apathetic. You only get what you seek by facing the flavor of the morning and making something good with it.

You’ll never be done tending to the pastures of your life, that doesn’t make it work, it’s simply the nature of the beast. While we’re fretting over our creature comforts, we forget to treat life as the unbroken animal that it is. We cry out for it to halt, we beg for it to go faster, and our orders are lost upon time as if we had been barking at a house cat. No, life is a game you play for keeps. You wake up every morning with the trepidation and intention of knowing that you cannot know.

Anyway, my mind becomes a sidewinder as I unravel a truth that seems so alarmingly obvious and unnaturally ill fitting. There is no singular truth, and there is no universal mandate. Fortune favors the bold and still good things come to those who wait. Too often, much of what we hope for is up to us. And too much of it is often left to chance.

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