I like the idea that the only thing real in the world is love. It’s the only thing that makes sense I think- I was discussing this with my cousin, and that’s sort of what he was insinuating, I believe. At least that happiness and meaning are sometimes mutually exclusive (and sometimes not), and that priorities may change over time (and sometimes not). You may be at a time in your life when you want to be doing something you love for work, and there may be a point in your life when that’s not actually what you’re prioritizing anymore.
I also like this concept that time is meaningless- a manmade construct used by humans to measure life. I think it was a mixture of Stephen Hawking, and Anita Moorjani that helped me buy into this theory.
But if only love is real, and time doesn’t exist, then maybe the whole point is to maximize the life you have to love as deeply and fully as possible. In all types of ways, shapes and forms. Sometimes that may take the form of work. Maybe it’s starting a family. Or art. Or pets. Or a loved one. Or travel. Or…I don’t even know. There are so many things.
But maybe I was looking at this whole life thing all wrong. Maybe the whole point, the absolute point, is to find, and give, as much love as possible. In whatever way we can, and whatever form that takes in the stage of life we’re in.
Maybe it’s really as simple as that.