It’s odd isn’t it, that forgiving, letting go, essentially not caring, is what makes life livable. To be overly attached to the ongoings of life, is to have a bad time. To enjoy ourselves, we have to be okay with giving up. “So what, what’s it matter?” is the mantra of a happy time.
It’s like playing a game: care enough that you’re engaged and having a good time, but not enough that you’ll go apeshit when something doesn’t go as expected. A satisfying life seems to be a balance of caring just enough.
Too much caring, and we’ll be paralyzed by the suffering that surrounds us. Too little caring, and life becomes a meaningless bore. But how do we adjust the balance? Through selective caring, blocking out what’s beyond our immediate view? Or by caring only a little about everything we encounter?
But who among us decides what to care about and by how much? People and places go in and out of our lives like the scenes of a dream. Twisting and looping, peaks become dips, riding the roller coaster we yell stop only to scream for more.