embracing mortality
I think that many of us, including myself, forget that (in the grand scheme of things) how futile our lives are. Civilization is at most around 10,000 years old compared to the 4.5 billion years the Earth has existed. We've had a very short amount of time on Earth's history. So in keeping that in mind, in the long run, my life won't matter. The iPhone won't matter. And whether or not that cute girl I met yesterday likes me back, it won't matter.
I wanted to push, push, and push myself until I reached lofty goals - but then one day I had a realization: I, no matter where I am in life, will die one day. And assuming I'll live until I'm 75, I have about 50 years or so left. That's 50 more summers, 50 more winters, 50 more times I'll see the flowers bloom after the snow melts for good.
And perhaps it was this exact realization that made me shift my life goals into an entirely new perspective. I was okay not being at the top of my field. I was okay being just okay at what I do. And all of a sudden, like the sun after a thunderstorm, something clicked. If I am to die, why not simply... enjoy what life offers, and contribute what I realistically can to make a difference to other humans in my area?
I became happier, more satisfied, and more content. I realized that saving for the Benz or the amazingly preserved apartment next to Central Park doesn't really matter. I learned to connect with my area and be a part of a budding community, most filled with dog-loving retirees. I might not be saving the world with the next generation LLMs or advancements in healthtech, and that's okay. I'm content, and happy with what I have.
Reader, should you leave with one thing, it's this: embrace mortality. We won't be able to do everything we want in this life. But what we can do is help the person next to us, and figure out what really, really matters to us, in this one life we have.