Real happiness comes from having less, not more.

Contentment comes from making space, not filling it.

We think we have to chase. We think we have to manufacture, to achieve, to circumvent, to force.

We set goals, and work hard. We reach goals, we set new ones. We work harder.

All of us realize this eventually.

Those who realize it too late look back on their lives, their divorces and disavowed children, their beemers and real leather, and wish for a second chance.

They will get one.

Those who realize it early enough live their lives accordingly. They soften. They smile more broadly. They go deeper, not faster.

To call it acceptance would be a disservice. It’s a celebration.

An actualization.

That’s the phenomenon I’m after. It’s that life, that simple one, that I’m building, with all the tools I have at my disposable. I’m after the lake side house, the oak trees, the surrounding villages. Worthless sets of china.

And to get there, I have to commit to being done. Done with achievement for the sake of achievement. Done with status and prestige, done with judgement and inadequacy, done with fearful hatred. Done with it all.

Every beginning starts with an ending.

Are you ready to make yours?