Life is not about being content.
No, life is about being ferociously happy,
and crippled by sadness.
Life is not for maintaining,
or for staying the path.
No, life is about adapting and reinventing,
learning to be okay with the fact
that this—whatever this happens to be at the moment—
this will not last.
For better or worse, the waves will crash on,
turn rocks to sand,
rivers will carve new paths, make new valleys,
accidents will happen, plans will fail,
people will come and go, be born and die,
and kids will always have a new way to say “cool.”
The clock keeps ticking and there is nothing we can do
except try to keep pace.
Memories fade and the future looms, uncertain.
To be content in the present is to waste what time is left.
We are not confined by the passage of time,
we are freed by it.
Free to reinvent, to make mistakes
and to grow into something we could never have expected.
So if ever we feel content
we must pack our bags, buy a one-way ticket,
break-up or let a new love grow,
quit our jobs and get a dog.
We might regret it, but at least we will feel it.