It’s not too Michael. I was or am exactly like you. But I have changed although it’s a work in progress. Several years ago my eight year old granddaughter was sitting on my lap while I read her some Christmas stories. She heard me say joy and she immediately asked me what joy was. I explained to her as best I could what joy was. She thought about my explanation for a few minutes, snuggled in a little closer to me and asked “ do you have joy in your life grandpa”. I didn’t know what to say. I felt joy when she and I did things together but I realized then that my granddaughters would eventually become an adult and start a family of her own and there would go the joy I was feeling. I think about that word daily and realize I may never know hat true joy is.have I settled to help others and not worry about me? Maybe joy is something we have to nurture before it can become a reality in our daily lives.
As ironic as it is, I led more or less the opposite of what you've described. It did me no good and took me nearly two decades of misery (more if childhood counts) to finally get to a safe, firm point in life. A point where I am not blown by every wind in the world and dragged along every current. I finally feel at peace, having found myself in the philosophy I started reading. Whatever the middle ground might be, it must be glorious. It must be what they call nirvana.
That isn’t the opposite, that’s what happened. Three decades of misery, including childhood, and I’m at a point where I’m attempting to shift. Which is what you are calling “peace.” I no longer care about what others think, but the question remains—am I too late to do anything with it?
You are not too late, thankfully. Rejoice in having found yourself and let life run the course it was meant to run. Paint, write, live, and love. Grow your own vegetables and sourdough, listen to the bird's warbling, and think not back on life with resentment. The poison has left the body, let it leave the mind and soul.
This is a heartbreaking post. I am so sorry for you.
I have two answers which will sound contradictory but which, I think, actually say the same thing in different ways.
One: It is not too late. You're not dead yet. You're alive. Go live, now, how you want to.
Two: Is it to late for some things? Yes. But not for others. Look at what you wanted to do and be, throw out the things that it is genuinely too late for, and *do the rest*.
Spinoza said that regrets simply double our pain, adding to the pain of our mistakes the extra pain of the regret. Hard advice to follow, but good if you can.
Haha thank you! Don’t take it as heartbreaking, it’s simply a thought process in my head. And I like to write it out so others can relate, if needed. I assure you I’m doing all I can to move forward. :)
It’s not too Michael. I was or am exactly like you. But I have changed although it’s a work in progress. Several years ago my eight year old granddaughter was sitting on my lap while I read her some Christmas stories. She heard me say joy and she immediately asked me what joy was. I explained to her as best I could what joy was. She thought about my explanation for a few minutes, snuggled in a little closer to me and asked “ do you have joy in your life grandpa”. I didn’t know what to say. I felt joy when she and I did things together but I realized then that my granddaughters would eventually become an adult and start a family of her own and there would go the joy I was feeling. I think about that word daily and realize I may never know hat true joy is.have I settled to help others and not worry about me? Maybe joy is something we have to nurture before it can become a reality in our daily lives.
As ironic as it is, I led more or less the opposite of what you've described. It did me no good and took me nearly two decades of misery (more if childhood counts) to finally get to a safe, firm point in life. A point where I am not blown by every wind in the world and dragged along every current. I finally feel at peace, having found myself in the philosophy I started reading. Whatever the middle ground might be, it must be glorious. It must be what they call nirvana.
That isn’t the opposite, that’s what happened. Three decades of misery, including childhood, and I’m at a point where I’m attempting to shift. Which is what you are calling “peace.” I no longer care about what others think, but the question remains—am I too late to do anything with it?
You are not too late, thankfully. Rejoice in having found yourself and let life run the course it was meant to run. Paint, write, live, and love. Grow your own vegetables and sourdough, listen to the bird's warbling, and think not back on life with resentment. The poison has left the body, let it leave the mind and soul.
This is a heartbreaking post. I am so sorry for you.
I have two answers which will sound contradictory but which, I think, actually say the same thing in different ways.
One: It is not too late. You're not dead yet. You're alive. Go live, now, how you want to.
Two: Is it to late for some things? Yes. But not for others. Look at what you wanted to do and be, throw out the things that it is genuinely too late for, and *do the rest*.
Spinoza said that regrets simply double our pain, adding to the pain of our mistakes the extra pain of the regret. Hard advice to follow, but good if you can.
Carpe diem. Seize the day.
Haha thank you! Don’t take it as heartbreaking, it’s simply a thought process in my head. And I like to write it out so others can relate, if needed. I assure you I’m doing all I can to move forward. :)