Bookmark #478

I have no complaints with life, but there are times when I sit and compare. Like a scrupulous accountant, I tally what I believed I would be doing when I was as old as I am now with the fifth cup of coffee in my hands before the clock has even struck five. There are no complaints and no pondering over what could have been, but a man has the right to think about something without believing it, if there is any right given to any person at all. That is freedom: to be able to think about things without having to act on them. The action is the free will people rave about; thoughts come and go.

You sit there, staring at a pitch black cup of coffee, it stirs a thought, and that is all there is to it. It is what the fifth cup of coffee did for me. It dislodged a stale regret in some faraway corner of my heart. And then, once it was free in principle, I sent it flying with arms wide open like how you release a bird in a cage, albeit beautiful, but captive nonetheless. That is what you must do with regrets: release them.

As pompous as it sounds, there are times when I look at it all, and no matter which way I turn the page, I only come to one conclusion: this is no ordinary life. And then, the apparent corollary stares at me: no life is ordinary. As long as it’s still running, as long as life happens, it is anything but ordinary. I don’t mean the overused cliche of us being unique but the responsibility that possibility brings.

As long as there is life, there is possibility. It is not a beacon of hope but a call to action, a declaration to arms. It expects you to roll your sleeves up and start getting your hands dirty to build it better, over and over again.

Many assured men have perished through history. You do not want to believe all life is as it must be, nor that there is some preordination for greatness. Nothing you touch turns to gold or anything else, for that matter. Mere touching it is not enough; you must work hard to make it what you want. That is what a life that is not ordinary means: it means someone did not believe in anything but putting in the work. The rest unfolds as it does.

The exception in exceptional has always been tenacity.

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