When I was young, life was not fun. And as I aged, I learned life could get even worse, so I wondered why I should continue with such a disagreeable experience. If something is a source of misery, is it not logical to repel from it, seeking an end to suffering?
But how can we reject life itself? We could contemplate self-destruction, but will that end it? If life is distasteful, what manner of unpleasantness awaits beyond it? We have no idea what happens once our body withers.
If we remain here, existing without relief, darkness comes. But as darkness overwhelms, even the slightest glimmer becomes a beacon of hope. For instance, I noticed not everyone was suffering — but if life is so horrible, why not? Their life circumstances didn’t seem different from anyone else’s — why do some appear to genuinely enjoy themselves?
The peculiar conclusion came: all that pain and suffering arose from my bad attitude. Such an absurd answer, it doesn’t seem possible. But from that discovery, I obtained influence on the intensity of my perception of life, and I now focus on things I enjoy.
Even if my ship should sink, let me say upon its descent: “what beautiful waves above, what tranquil waters below”, admiring the grandeur that consumes me.