My shining stars, what will you call your life, if it could fit in one word.
Take your time. Mull over the thought. Amazing, hm…maybe boring, exciting?
For me, I will call it a race. A very athletic race that I participate in, almost every day. And mind you, I never reach the finish line. Funnily, always racing.
It exhausts me, depletes me.
But with the great optimism I have, I never stop. Competing with the other athletes.
Have you ever run that race? Where everybody has something better than you, a better home, a car, a job, an out of the world perfectly shaped body, an expensive bag.
But also a race for having the most aesthetic life because the actual land may be different type, a completely different topography that can’t grow grass, but a tree, small plants. But I will grow grass because that’s the trend. And I am an active living person, who wants to enjoy the same as everyone, live the same as everyone. If she/he has a blue tailored suit, going to their fancy job, which they actively post on social media, getting likes, shares and favorability, gives a blue tick in my mind to have the same.
Most favorable is when someone has a party life, not at all broke, but also has an amazing mansion to go later and then sleep in a silk case sleepwear, a dog to cuddle after, a happy healthy family, oh yes and an expensive journal book they scribble something, before calling a good night.
Wow, that’s quite vast. Aren’t they lucky? We should all give them an award for having the best life.
And give you one, if yours is too. Because we already have set a standard on how the most aesthetic, socially acceptable life looks like.
Now, have I guilt tripped you enough?
If yes, contemplate this new thought. What if, slow is our new radical.
That we don’t want to arrive at the finish line with the luckiest people, because we don’t run in the same path. Arguably, we choose the slowest path for us. Because my land was never made to grow grass, maybe a wildflower, a rare species. How nice that thought is, isn’t it?
You must have heard about this slow life aesthetic, where they journal, write letters, cook for themselves, and hike. We could…do that. In reality. I don’t mean, let me add candles, a notebook, an expensive stanley bottle and show that I am journaling. No. I mean, doing things without posting about it. Going underdressed rather than overdressed, because that’s what you like (only if you do). A digital detox day, delete, unfollow, unsubscribe the unnecessary.
My stance- Do it for you, my glorious moons. Dig your own aesthetic graves, plant the seeds of your indigenous wants, skills, desires, drench the soil with favourability (Not of others), and bear the fruit of your peace. Take time to rest, not just when you reach the invisible endpoint (does it even exist). Feel grateful to be able to take pauses.
Lastly, muse over your gardening potentials, sow those bold, big, entitled trees or thin, delicate plants, since it’s always been your land to grow.
