There was a recent period in my life where I found myself devouring non-fiction books about creativity, authenticity and having clarity about one’s life path. Since I’m the kind of person who is passionate about matters like life purpose and co-creating one’s reality, I doggedly pursued the answers to such questions to the point that I was merely being cerebral about them. That hurt my brain and caused a tightness in my chest.
In one splitting second, though, in the middle of yet another book which was supposed to hand me some clarity, I felt the bigger version of me, who’s all-seeing and being, left a casual remark,
“But you’re already living your dream life.”
I was sitting in a corner of my favorite bookstore at that time. Nothing has changed about the place nor the people there. But that message has made me zoom out of my limited point of view. I looked around to see others who were also peacefully or intensely engaged with the books on their laps. Then I realized, that yes, I’ve already been living my dream life.
I longed for the freedom to be introspective and creative, and I got it.
My obsessive search for clarity died down. There was no need to run along my hamster wheel anymore, in search for answers that were always beyond my reach. The answers I’ve been looking for could be found not in my seeking but in my ability to be fully present in each moment, having faith that where I am is where I need to be.