I couldn’t quite see it

I couldn’t quite see it when it started. I would have bet on the contrary few months into it, in fact. And then I remembered.

I believe is steady successes. I believe in hard work and crazy determination. I don’t buy into instant gratification, of any kind. Nor do I look for it. I know what does me well and I sure know what makes me happy. I was telling a friend some time ago over a good glass of red, that life wasn’t about the big shots. It was about what you decided to stick to every single day. It was about the waking up at 6.30 am and doing your 15 minutes of meditation or workout, every morning. It was about calling your friends to see how they were hanging on, week after week.  It was about sticking to that work commitment in all your honesty. It was about consistency.

Life is about being fully aware of the decisions you make, the messages you put out there, the thoughts you land on other people’s’ minds and the feelings you make room for in other people’s’ hearts. It’s about taking time to connect and reconnect to all that matters to you. Because life will throw you off the track. You will fall out of the wagon big time. And you will have to walk, bare feet and bear soul, till the next station. And when you have no idea what has happened and how on Earth you’ve got lost, again, you’ll only have to remember you’ve been there before. You know where the station is. You know how it looks like, its facade and its every single inside corner. You vividly recall its colours, you smell its smells and you feel how it feels. Even if you’re on this no man’s land, thrown out of the wagon.

Remember why. You are so damn free when you know why you are where you are, in this very moment of your life. I couldn’t quite see it when it all started. I couldn’t quite see it that this was about to be yet another amazing year of my life. And then somebody helped me remember what I said to myself whilst standing on the edge three years ago: I WANT TO BE HAPPY. That simple. My whole life changed, for this became my “why”.