Human societies are funny. Evolved over the last few thousand years to be as productive as possible, to somehow balance freedom and equality, to offer people as much comfort as possible.
Most of us enjoy a standard of living that would have been reserved to kings a few hundred years ago. Maybe even better. We have access to knowledge, to foods from all over the world, to entertainment, to technology, yet…
Are we happy?
Or is a society created to give you enough support, so you don’t die? The minimum wage, the healthcare benefits, retirement…
Do we aspire for greatness? Do we teach our children that? Do we inspire? Or wish to be inspired? Do we even fight to be happy? To make others happy?
Do we try our best to bring joy to others, and those “others” fight equally hard to bring joy to us?
Of course not. There are so many of us, that most of the time, it’s every man for himself. The support system is there, but highly dysfunctional. Maybe it’s because what is not earned through hard word and personal development never lasts, maybe it’s because the help we receive acts as a crutch, even though we don’t need one.
A lot of people would say that I live a charmed existence. Sometimes I do pretend it is that way. But it’s not. I have to fight each and every day, and I have to keep fighting.
Those of you who have been following my blog for at least two years or so know my struggles. At least a part of them. The ones I did ask to be helped to overcome them.
Indeed, no man is an island. And we do need others, but I think that most of the fight, most of success, most of happiness, comes from within. From what we believe we are capable of doing, from the hard work that we put into making our dreams come true, from the sacrifices, the sleepless nights, the moments of doubt and anger and bitterness and hopelessness that we go through.
I often say that lukewarm is no good.
If you’re gonna fight…
Fight like it’s now or never.
Fight as if your life depended on it.
Because it does. Oh, my friends, how much it does. Every little thing… every little defeat, they all add up, they all take away your light, your power, until you end up believing you have none left.
I used to be this strange kid. Spend most of my time playing with my toys in my bedroom. Imagining stuff. Wishing. Dreaming. I used to think that I was destined to be great. To achieve things. To conquer the world.
Twenty years later, here I am, living from day to day, struggling, still hoping, still wishing, still dreaming.
It is a bitter truth that not all dreamers achieve their dreams, but all achievers are dreamers.
I still wish to dream. I still want to fight for my dream. And I will do so. More than ever before.