“I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The function of man is to live, not to exist.”
I can’t help but notice something.
It’s been a year since I left home; A year since I started to become daringly adventurous and gutsily independent. A year since I felt like a knight who left his land to experience the gigantic world, a very big world which he only found in his books, to conquer dragons and see his dreams come to reality.
After all those months, I can’t help but notice.
I no longer actively sought opportunities to talk and meet new people like I used to. I no longer actively joined competitions that test my limits. I no longer deliberately read books like my life depended on it, like I used to. I no longer recorded and tracked my progress like I used to. I no longer am comfortable in taking risks like I absolutely had nothing to lose, like I used to.
I am becoming comfortable.
I noticed that life isn’t as hard, as risky, as challenging as it used to a year ago. And on top of this, the kind words and feedback that some people give me only adds up to this false sense of security.
A part of me thinks to myself, “You can live with this, Pyl. Remember how people acknowledge you and your talents? Yeah, you’ll have a decent future, Pyl.”
I am becoming comfortable, and worse, in a false security.
My talents, skills, job, achievements, dreams, connections, personality, stuffs, are things that provide me a sense of security, but a false one that will fade away in a blink of an eye. I realized I am foolishly possessed by the security that these immediate things provide, when the truth is that Security’s only master is the Creator Himself.
I remember that I passionately don’t want to have a life that just survives, but I want to live life to help others to have the same.
And I have been remembering another thing, a thing that both humbles me and wants me to push myself at the same time. And it is from this thing too that I find where true security is:
“Now listen, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.” Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, “If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.””
(James 4, 13-14)