My life is shaded to match the colors of a musical playlist. Often I can remember exactly where I was when I first fell in love with a song. I associate different songs with night rides and others with naked gyrations. I take it everywhere. In my car, in the office, on a run, in my distract able brain. I even took your most familiar written image and had it tattooed.
Lately, people have got me thinking about the meaning of life.
The moment we first touched, I pictured myself telling our kids about the feeling.
I keep feeling like people’ve got ambition all wrong. All my ambitious brothers and sisters chase the images and figures they see televised. The glamour, the fans, the money, the businesses bearing their name. Why not chase the mindset of those happy with their success? I aim to be respected, to share my joy, to create experiences that people can relate to and interact with. If I do these things well, the rest will surely come.
Imagine the empty victory, however, that you will experience when you’re at the top, alone, and angry because you drove people away. Because you let “ambition” get in the way of the joy you were truly aiming for.