What does one find when they search for their own autonomy endlessly? They find the impossible and a constant fight, a tasty and fruitless ouroboros. Many times in life we will be searching for the one and find something close. That light seems so bright that we paint its picture magnificent in our head and the memory or thought of it flushes our eyes and lunges then fingers toes and hairs we didn’t know we could feel, with bliss. That is a good picture we painted. It is not a proper representation.
If we did not fit there, it will be clear. The sadness that exists from heartbreak, lost jobs and all sorts of missed chances stems rejuvenating a vine with the blooming idea that we should have or could have done it better. Mixing up our ideal of perfect and the reality in front of us is awful. Realizing that perfect reality still exists outside the situation ass assuages such silly worries.
There is a best fit for us and just like trying on the wrong dress then going to a party in it, now it is known what not to do. Maybe it was stupid but if it worked then everyone would have seen. Not having anything to learn from does feel empty. Lots of things feel different ways though, so try something else on. That mistake leads one closer to a good fit and worrying about misfits wastes time from finding the perfect fit.
