I find it strange when I am asked why I do what I do. 'why not? 'is my reflex response.'I endeavour to be the person I'd want on my side if I were not as blessed with the context I enjoy today'. I have long found it perplexing how we consider a false dichotomy, a norm. A context in which service to society and contribution is perceived as a sacrifice, an opposing force in the face of fiery individual endeavour. The very observable nature of life is that of purpose and interconnection. Yet we often find ourselves at the cold surface of an obsession with quantification. Perhaps we struggle with the perceptible value of purpose and fulfilment. For it is intangible and often beyond the scope of words. There is no formula for its creation and hence no automation for its acquisition. It is a ceaseless process of living within the often murky worlds within us. Untying knots from generations past and navigating the wild rivers of circumstance towards a future unkown. A journey filled with both the threat of wounds and the promise of healing. An opportunity to break free of the limiting mould of living for oneself.
I have had many a person ask me if I fear not having the money to provide for myself as a result of my choices. While rooted in some level of practicality, an over-riding fear is that of not having lived for want of money. For beyond the simplistic notion of a giver and a receiver, is a primal longing to be of use.