I was just sitting in my kitchen, eating some leftovers for breakfast, staring out at my backyard. Just as usual. No problem there.
Then, out of the blue, I started thinking. Again, part of my daily routine.
I started thinking about my past, the people that had helped me along during my life so far.
And I began to wonder: What have I really done in my life?
That’s the part that was different from my daily routine. The point in life when you realize that there’s a world out there and you’re letting it slip by your fingertips.
Sure, there are things that you can do in your life that make you happy, boost your reputation, etc. Volunteering, community help, extracurricular activity for those in school.
The problem is, almost everyone in today’s society is expected to do at least one of those things at one point or another in life. They’ve become part of the routines of life.
What makes a fulfilling experience?
Well, that’s kind of hard to put into words. I’m pretty sure that we all have different standards of “fulfillment” in our lives. Or “life-changing”. Or even “amazing”. I’ll share mine.
For me, an experience that is worth it does not depend on how much it costs materialistically. Whether vacationing to somewhere away from home or somewhere close, I believe that you can experience the beauty of life everywhere you go. You’ve just got to find it and make it your own.
Any new experience, be it good or bad, is fulfilling for me. The fact that I have tried something new gives me this sense of completeness or achievement. I can say then that I have lived life, maybe not to its fullest, but to my satisfaction.
Any experience that allows you to think, meditate, open your eyes to your surroundings is a fulfilling experience as well. Anytime you’re somewhere in the world and you get inspired to create or live– that is a fulfilling experience.
(Notice how I don’t clarify what I mean by “create” and “live”, choosing instead to italicize the words. You decide what I mean, reader.)
And, looking back on my life, I’ve come to the point where I’m realizing that I have next to nothing to remember and point to, nothing to tell others, “Hey, this is pretty sweet! Once-in-a-lifetime experience!”
But in the long run, those memories are in the past. I haven’t been doing anything “great” since.
Maybe I’m just bored. I don’t know. But I’ve hit the point where I’ve come this far and am wondering why I do what I do and how can I give my life meaning.
I know that the world is waiting for you and I, I know that there are experiences that I have lived through, but I also know that there are more than a hundred and one experiences that I haven’t lived through yet.
And no one knows when life will end. For that matter, no one knows when their life would end.
Life is great and all, when it’s a simple routine, but somewhere along the way, I hit the point where I’ve realized-
I haven’t lived yet.