I was sitting with a good friend a couple of weeks back when he asked me this question, “are you ever content?” I didn’t have time to sit with the question for long that night, so I scribbled it down on a napkin and stuffed it in my pocket for a later date.
That napkin has haunted me ever since he asked me the question!
Fast forward a few weeks, and I am sitting in one of my favorite hole-in-the wall restaurants on a chilly Friday afternoon eating lunch alone; I decided to bring the napkin. When I wrestle with questions like this one I have to be in a place I can be alone and watch people.
Nobody is smiling today as I write, but I bet if you asked the people within my view if they were content most would say yes. The problem is they don’t look content; they look disenchanted. They look hollow, like an old dead tree that just hasn’t fallen yet, but serves as a hole for others to live in.
I am content at this particular moment. I am enjoying good music, good food and doing something that brings me artistic joy, writing.
Am I content?
Hell no, I am not content, and until they throw dirt over the box they lower me in the ground with I will not be content.
What I have found when people tell me they are content they have either given up, or don’t know how to change.
Being content is overrated!
Thanks for reading my stuff!