These Ordinary Days

I am really struggling with the monotony of life these days. Maybe its that we don’t have money for special things or maybe its that we have hindrances to living a normal life. 

There is just nothing special here. 

I feel so wrong, so guilty for saying such a thing. Does it mean I value the people in my life less than I should? Does it mean I’m selfish? Where is the line between self-preservation and self-consumption? How do I care for myself enough and still care for others too?

So many good questions. 

Here is where I am supposed to be the Sherpa and make grand conclusions that enlighten everyone. After all, that is what would make this blog popular. 

I’m not going for popular. I’m going for real. 

I don’t know all the answers. No one does. When life seems the same over and over again, I wonder at the purpose behind it all. Where is the meaning?

Perhaps the truth is that not everything has meaning. Perhaps the truth is that a good portion of life is spent at traffic lights and sleeping and doing things that don’t amount to a full life. Perhaps it’s a bit normal and okay to be sick of the drab parts of life and to feel a bit directionless. 

I want to re-enchant everyday life, but what if everyday life was never enchanted in the first place?

Maybe the key is to do one enchanting thing each day until the enchantment builds on itself. Suddenly, two things are enchanting in my day and then three and so on and so forth. Maybe the key is trying for enchantment, not the enchantment itself. 



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